She Taught Her Way Right Into Their Hearts
by katersgonnak8
Summary: Kate is an orphan whose average day consists of working at the textile factory from 9 to 5, and afterwards her above-average smarts land her a job teaching children at the Newsboy's Lodging House. During her time there, the boys all treat her like a sister, even when they aren't related. But when an incident at the factory stirs up trouble, how will Kate and the newsies handle it?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form take any credit for _Newsies_ and all rights for _Newsies_ belong to Disney.

**Summary: ****Kate's average day consists of working more hours than most adults, and only at the age of 14. It starts off working at the textile mill from 9 to 5, and afterwards her above average smarts landed her a job teaching the children at the Newsboy's Lodging House as well. She isn't related to any of the boys, but might as well be. She lives in an orphanage run by a group of nuns. Nonetheless, the older boys still treat her as a younger sister, and the young ones view Kate as the mom that they always pictured. But will Kate and the Manhattan Newsies survive when her boss at the factory starts making trouble? All suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome! *Now Edited***

**Chapter 1- An omen**

On the avenue, there ain't never a curfew, ladies work so hard  
Such a melting pot, on the corner selling rock, preachers pray to God  
Hail a gypsy-cab, takes me down from Harlem to the Brooklyn Bridge  
Some will sleep tonight with a hunger far more than an empty fridge

I'm gonna make it by any means, I got a pocketful of dreams  
Baby, I'm from New York

~Alicia Keys: Empire State of Mind Part ll~

"You call this quality work?!" The boss, becoming significantly more aggravated, shouts at me. "I am supposed to be making a business out of this, and that's difficult when I have imbeciles like you messing up everything right and left! I am even paying you for God's sake!"

Throwing the sweater at me, he storms off to go criticize someone else's hard work. I don't know why I even try anymore. It's impossible to make the boss, Mr. Dunnigan, happy. Yesterday I had accidentally punctured my finger with one of the sewing needles, causing it to be even more difficult to handle the material. Don't worry; it happens all the time here. Caught hair, punctured limbs, and some are just completely torn off. And yes, it is beyond disgusting, but we all have to make a living somehow.

I live in an orphanage run by a local group of nuns, staying there from the age of four. I find myself daydreaming about leaving the orphanage one day, because the odds are not in my favor when it comes to someone actually adopting me. No one wants a teenager with abandonment issues and whose only friends are the local newsies.

Thinking about that subject always conjured up thoughts of the final days with my mom and dad.

_"I am diagnosing you with typhoid fever," the doctor relays to my bedridden parents, "it would be in your best interest to get plenty of rest. Other than that, there is not much else we can do to help."_

_The doctor then turned around to face me. "Stay strong, little girl. You parents are going to need it."_

_My four-year-old self nodded vehemently at the older man, and looks with grim eyes at the sight of my dying parents. Even at my young age, I could tell they wouldn't be around for much longer. _

Moving to America at such at young age hindered me from remembering the name of the country I previously had been living in, but I still had a small hand full of memories from there. Immigrating to New York a couple months prior of my parent's passing is the reason for why we don't have any other relatives here.

Sighing, I grab all of my possessions and make my way to the doors, just recently unlocked by the owners of the factory. The working conditions here are inhumane, but at least I was free from this place for the next few hours.

I journey through the busy streets of New York, distracted by the distinct noise of horses clomping and muffled sounds of a thousand different conversations. While heading towards the Newsboy Lodging House, someone calling my name brings me out of my thoughts.

"Kate!" an excited shout came from behind me. I turn only to see David Jacobs jogging towards me clutching his bag quarter-full of newspapers and his little brother Les trailing behind.

"David! Haven't seen you around lately. What are you doing still out selling newspapers?" I question him. In my new line of sight, my eye catches a glimpse of the clock located at an entrance to a nearby building, only to see it was 5:46. I would be late – _again_. Who knows? Maybe one day my boss will let me out on time.

"Bad selling day," David said, answering my previous question. "But at least Pulitzer will buy off our newspapers that we don't sell."

"Yeah, haven't heard much from Pulitzer since the strike, come to think of it. Now that it's getting colder we might have another problem on our hands, though," I shuddered. Winter was always a bad time for the newsies. The boys always got the worst of the illnesses, but they all seemed to manage without a doctor and come back strong by spring. That also meant I was about to get a lot busier. I could also vividly remember the strike from a couple years back, and recall how much has changed since then. For the better – mostly.

In addition to an occasional gust of strong wind, I spotted the ominous, gray clouds rolling in from the southwest. Annoyed, I brush loose strands of long, brown hair out of my face that had escaped from my ponytail. Reaching the lodging house, I greet the elderly man at the front desk with my usual cheerful banter.

"Hello Kloppman!" A sparkle appears in my green eyes as I address him, my hair swishing back and forth as I continue to walk past the threshold. I let the warmth envelop me from the fire in the common area as heads turned to see who had just entered. Smiles and hugs from a few of the older boys welcome me as Kid Blink went to round up all of the younger boys.

"How's that factory job goin', Kate?" Jack asked, knowing my boss wasn't "fun-loving" sort of guy. His eyes then focused in on my bandaged up finger, and his brow furrowed even further. Always the overprotective one, that boys is.

"Work is work, and I am just glad to have something that pays." I told him, trying to calm any of his worries.

"Alright, but let me know if anything else happens." Jack made sure to add.

It was at that moment that the boys came bounding down the stairs eager and ready to learn. Kloppman began to think it would be good for some of the younger boys to start learning some of the basics, and that is where I come into the picture. I had been jumping at the opportunity to teach, fully aware of my love for helping kids.

Runner, one of the boys about 9-years-old, caught my eye when I noticed he kept looking down. I lightly guided his chin up, only to see a nasty purple bruise forming. I looked to Jack as if to say _what on earth happened to him? _

"Don't look at me like that," Jack said putting up his hands up in surrender, "He got into a lil' bit of a soaking with one of them Harlem boys ova' territory, but don't you worry cause Runner taught the kid a lesson."

I hear some of the boys congratulating Runner with pat-on-the-backs and high-fives. I just scoff and shake my head, a small smile forming at the sight before me. And as an afterthought, I make a mental note to check up on Runner later.

"Alright," I said ending the celebration, "Time for learning. Boys go upstairs. Are you coming today, Les?"

He shakes his head up and down enthusiastically, and I then guide the boys to bunkrooms. Turning to face the stairwell, I look out a window to see the snow falling in near-blizzard conditions. Somewhat concerned, I simply shrug and then follow the boys upstairs.

**A/N Please make sure to comment with any suggestions. I will read all of your comments and take them into account. I wasn't sure on the length of this chapter either, too short or too long? This chapter might have been more boring since we had to go through the background info too. I hope you enjoyed it so far :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Shoutout to SugarBubbleGum for being the first person to review my story (and to everyone else). Like I said, I love to read your comments- good, bad, or anything in between. You guys are the ones who inspire me to continue writing, so I want to say thank you. You have no idea just how much one review means! *Now Edited***

**Chapter 2- The Newsboy's Lodging House**

I wanna scream and shout, and let it all out

And scream and shout, and let it out

~Will. I. Am. feat: Britney Spears: Scream and Shout~

"People of high rank who rep-re-sent a country while in a different country can be ref-erred to as am' bastards" Snipeshooter read, stumbling through the passage from the hand-me-down history textbook.

_"Ambassadors_," I correct him, letting out a small laugh at his mispronunciation.

It was now 7:37, which means I am basically done with teaching for the day. I feel a bone-jolting chill sweep through the rows of bunks that causes the window to fly open. I was about to fix it when I notice that the near-blizzard had turned into a full on blizzard and the streets of New York were now no-man's land. I mentally groan at the thought of having to walk back to the orphanage in _that_. I spend most of my time either at the factory or at the lodging house; rarely ever did I spend a full day at the orphanage. I mean, the nuns were extremely nice and accommodating, I just found it to be depressing. They aren't too worried if I don't show up because they know I am most likely here. Besides, the boys didn't mind the company at all. In fact, I would be more than happy to become a newsie and stay at the lodging house, except for one teeny-weeny problem: I'm a _girl_. Yeah, sure, there are girl newsies out there, but I would have to stay at their lodging house and it just wouldn't be the same. And not to mention, half of them are prostitutes. I visibly cringe at the mere thought of it.

I turn around, to see that the boys were all passed out on their beds in deep sleep. It isn't surprising, though, since all of them are under the age of eleven. I tiptoe my way to the stairs and to the front desk area and see Jack, Kid Blink, Mush, Race, Itley, Crutchy, Boots, Specs, and Skittery playing yet another card game. I was almost out the door when Race stops me.

"You'd be a fool to walk all the way to the orphanage in that weather. Prob'ly die from hypo- whatever-it's-called if ya ask me."

"Well then what should I do? I have work in the morning." I sigh, trying to come up with a solution. Honestly, I don't even think the Delanceys are stupid enough to go out there. But then again, they are the epitome of stupidity.

"You can stay here," He gave me the _duh _face. They only offer for me to stay here when they think it's too dangerous to go outside. That, and the chance of a housing official stopping by to check up on things is slim to none right now.

"You guys know I'd love to but I don't have any money on me to pay the lodging fee." Usually, I would have some amount of money on me but I get paid every other week at the factory. Currently, I am running low and have kept the remaining fifteen cents under the pillow in my bedroom. And did I forget to mention that I don't actually get paid for teaching the newsboys? I enjoy it, so that's ok. Plus, I get the added benefit of getting a pape for free whenever I want. It's mainly just an opportunity to get away from my hectic life.

"Oh, come on Kate, we don't bite," Crutchy adds trying to lighten the mood. The room filled with quiet laughter and Boots began rolling on the floor in hysterics. Goodness, that boy could find something funny to laugh at in the obituary section of the newspaper if he really wanted to.

"If that's the only issue then we should be able to help with that," Jack said as if it weren't a problem at all. The boys nearest to me nod their heads in agreement. Jack, Crutchy, and Race pull out a fraction of their days earnings.

"Jack, you need that. I couldn't take it." I protest.

"Kate, it's final. You're staying here." He said with brotherly authority. And before I could react he gave the coins to Kloppman and signs me in. Logically, he changes my name to be a boy's in case someone were to go back and look at the records.

I sit down by the boys who were just about to start a new game of poker. Mush, who was sitting next to me, wrapped arm over my shoulder and I leaned into his side. It felt so comforting to be in a place where I know I was loved. Sure, we aren't related but we were family. A crazy, chaotic, hysterical, caring, dysfunctional family.

"You want to play in the next game, Kate?" Specs asked.

"Bring it on," I challenged. I had to admit, the boys knew how to play poker, especially Race, who was the gambling aficionado. Eventually, we made it to the last round where we all had to show our cards.

"How'd ya do that?!" Kid Blink asked, appalled, as I reaveal my winning set of cards.

"Beginner's luck," Race adds gruffly.

"Alright boys, quite your bawlin' and off to bed. It's gonna be cold tomorrow and I want everyone at their peak health if were gonna be sellin' papes in that weather." Jack ordered the boys, and another set of groans could be heard again. Jack ran upstairs but returned with a pair of oversized clothes for me to wear.

"Here, they'll be a bit big on you'se but it's all we've got." I changed in the downstairs bathroom to try and maintain some decency.

When I reach the bunks, I shuffle my way towards one of the unused beds. The majority of the boys were already asleep.

"Night, sweetheart" Crutchie said.

"Night" I said yawning. I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost the second my head hit the pillow.

The next second, I was in the factory.

_My mom and dad were there too. The crackling from the furnaces was barely noticeable over the roar of the machinery_

_"Mom! Dad!" I screamed as I saw them tied to ropes dangerously close to the open pit of the furnace. Any closer and the heat would burn the cotton material of the rope, leaving them to fall to imminent death. _

_Fowl-smelling breath snakes its way to my nose as Mr. Dunnigan stands mere inches behind me. The noise of the sewing machines, tap-tap-tap-tap tap-tap-tap-tap, repeats over and over. My forehead smothered in perspiration, a single drop falling onto the garment._

_"Strike one," warns and pulls a lever making the rope drop three feet. I was screaming and begging for him to stop, but he just stood there. _

_I continued working on the sweater, and this time my hand twitched causing me to mess up the straight line for the stitching. _

_"Strike Two." This time they dropped six feet and now begging was mix with my parent's ear-piercing screams. _

"Kate! Kate!" someone shouts.

I awake with a start, only to see Jack and Race looking at me with concerned faces. All the lights are off, but I could see their faces from the light that reflects off of the snow coming through the window. Seeing that Jack could handle the situation, Race clambers back to his bed.

Ya wanna talk about it?" Jack asked. I shake my head, keeping my mouth clamped shut trying to stop myself from crying. I looked away as tears fall down my cheeks.

"It was just a dream," Jack said soothingly while giving me a hug. I cried into his shoulder until I didn't feel the need to cry anymore.

"Don't leave," I pleaded, lying back down.

"I won't." Jack replied. He played with my hair until I fell into a dreamless sleep. Only if I know how true those words really were.

The next morning I wake up to see complete and utter chaos. Boys were running around half-dressed and preparing to hawk the day's headlines. Race came and put his hands over my eyes to shield me from the indecency. I giggled at the silliness of it all.

"Put your shirts on! We'se has a lady in the room!" Race ordered, and then directs his next question at me after removing his hands from my face, "Sleep any better?"

I nodded and looked through the foggy window to see a city covered in snow. The boys would be able to sell papes but I had no way to get to the factory on time. The factory doors lock at exactly 9 o' clock. It would take even longer in the snow. Worst case scenarios ran through my head as I thought about what my boss would do to me when I couldn't show up.

**Thanks for reading! I don't plan on Kate having a relationship with any of the Manhattan Newsies. If anything, it would be I character her age that I would create. But even then it wouldn't be serious. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3- Calling it Quits**

Got a pistol for a mouth, my old mama gave me that  
Making my own road out of gravel and some wine  
And if I have to fall then it won't be in your line

~Gin Wigmore: Black Sheep~

My mind began racing on hyper-drive as I think of ways to get to work on time. Maybe, just maybe, if I was fast enough I would arrive in time. I had to try. Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I haphazardly put on her dress from the day before. Not even bothering to tidy my hair, I sprinted to the staircase dodging newsboys every few feet. The boys just stare at me with a look of confusion.

"I'm late!" I shout.

"You might want shoes," Jack yells after me. I bound back up the stairs, put on the shoes, and carry on my way.

Lady Luck was on my side today. As I arrive at the factory, I observe that the doors remain unlocked. I let out a sigh of relief and step through the entrance of the humid factory. Little did I know that Mr. Dunnigan was standing guard right next to the entrance. The very moment I set foot into the factory, he grabs my arm and yanks me roughly to the side.

"You're late," He states, not a single trace of sympathy visible on his face. "My office_, now_."

I follow him obediently up the metal steps to his office. Some of the workers just gaze at me with a sympathetic expression, but quickly return to their work before they are seen off task.

"What possible reason do you have for being late?" He interrogates, "Not with those vile newsboys you're always spending time with, I hope. But then again, I wouldn't put it pass you to sleep with one of them," he eyes me up and down. I hadn't had the chance to look in a mirror, but I knew I must not look good in this disheveled state. Hair flying in all directions, and the same dress she had worn yesterday, only with more wrinkles.

"Let's get things clear, I would _never_ sleep with one of boys. They're practically my family!" I snap at him.

"Tut tut. That's sweet. You actually think those boys like you. Let me help _you _get things clear. No one will ever like you. You're merely property."

I was almost at a loss for words. At this point, I am throwing caution to the wind. My fists were clenching and unclenching at the false accusations. I had enough, enough of his elitist, selfish, uncaring attitude. I couldn't help but to continue on my rant.

"You treat these woman and children like vermin. I'd like to see you try and do half as good as we can at this job! You will never understand because you have everything you could ever want. You are stuck up and desensitized like all those other rich people who couldn't care less what happen to us as long as you make a couple bucks while you're at it!" I scream, unleashing the thoughts that had been boiling up for the past 8 years.

"How _dare_ you speak to me like that," He says in a dangerously low voice, "You know what we do to people like you? They get punished." And he pulls a hot iron poker out from the fireplace. But before the red hot iron could touch my skin, I reach over to his desk and grabbed his empty bottle of wine, hitting him on the head hard enough to knock him out. He falls limply to the floor, and I run out the office door before any of the other managers notice what happened.

I silently curse as I remember that all the doors are locked during working hours. I make my way to the back of the bottom floor of the factory, trying stay out of sight. I move a few boxes only to reveal a dusty window. I hit it with the sole of my shoe, causing panes of glass to shatter. I then hoist myself through the small opening. Breathing in sharply as I felt my forearm stinging from the pain of getting cut on ragged edges of the glass. I push the thoughts of pain to the back of my head, and let the new feeling of freedom consume me. I was never coming back to this place, ever.

I wander around the streets of New York at a loss of what to do. I berate myself at my stupidity of getting fired. I'm out of a job now with no money. I decide the best thing to do is just to head back to the orphanage. I hold my arm tightly trying to cut off the circulation to reduce the loss of blood. The excruciating pain grew more and more as time went on. It didn't look pretty, either. A familiar voice reached my ears:

"Man arrested after attempted burglary of the mayor's gold porcelain throne!" Mush hawks, "improvin' the truth" as Jack calls it. A few people hastily made their way to him to buy a morning edition of _The World_. He caught my eye and brushed off the rest of his costumers and made his way towards me.

"Your arm! What on earth 'appened?! Oh gawd this is bad. Alright, we needs to get ya to a doctor."

"Whoa, whoa, slow your horses buddy." I sooth him, appearing calmer on the outside than I really am. To tell you the truth, I am a wreck. My feet are soaking wet from the slush on the sidewalk; I'm freezing, and I'm starting to get a headache from all of the stress.

"Here," He hands me a paper to try and staunch the bleeding. "Follow me." I trail Mush on the familiar path to Tibby's, a restaurant often visited by the newsies.

A bell rung as Mush opens the door to the restraint, and motioned for me to go inside. We went and joined the rest of the boys. Specs stood up, and told me to sit in his spot as he went and pulled up a chair from one of the other tables.

"Ya look awful," Race informs me.

"Gee, thanks."

"You never told me what happened. No trying to switch the topic either," Mush interrupts.

I inhale a deep breath and tell them of today's events at the factory. It bothers me that the newsies got their fight for rights, but the women and children of the factories are still suffering.

"So wait, he was actually gonna hurt ya?" Jack asks in astonishment once I finish telling them everything.

"Yeah, he was," I put my head in my hands. "Oh God, I don't know what I am going to do now," I whimper at a loss for words.

"First things first, we're gonna go to the lodge and get your arm fixed up," Jack said, but then signaled for Crutchy and Race to talk to him in private. Their whispers were too quiet to make anything out of what they were saying, so I just focus on the hot tea that's in front of me. I catch a glimpse them looking at me, and then continue their whispered conversation.

"C'mon Kate. We're headin' back to the lodge now," Jack says.

***Now Edited* Make sure to share any ideas you have about what you want to happen next. I got a little bit of a writer's block in this chapter but it should hopefully pick up soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to SugarBubbleGum for all of the fantastic help! *Now Edited***

**Chapter 4- A proposition**

Do you hear, do you hear

That sound

It's the sound of the lost gone found

It's the sound of a mute gone loud

It's the sound of a new start

~A Fine Frenzy: Now Is the Start~

With the scraping of chairs, everyone stands up to go back to the lodging house. Although, a few leave to finish selling their reaming papers. I pull my thin coat tighter around me once outside, the ever-relenting wind causing my teeth to chatter and piles of snow to swirl around. I fall into stride with Mush, Specs, Jack, Crutchy, Race, and Snipeshooter, all of whom are heading back to the lodging house with me.

"Is she ok?" Snipeshooter asks Jack, becoming aware that I had fallen behind. The young boy is attempting and failing to whisper his remarks to Jack because I am able to hear him from six feet away.

"I'm just dizzy," I convey to them, "I think it's from my arm injury."

The pain from my arm seemed to become even worse when the dizziness wouldn't go away. It started to throb, and I held it even tighter. Race then decides it was only going to get worse so he came and picks me up with one arm behind my back and the other underneath my legs. We continue on to the lodge at a brisker pace than before.

"What happened to Kate?" Kloppman asked as we arrived at the front desk, although he'd probably seen worse come through that doorway before.

"Specs, take Kate to the bathroom and bandage up her arm. I'll talk to Kloppman," Jack instructs, handing me to Specs. Snipeshooter follows us up the stairs, intrigued at the thought of all the blood.

Specs set me down on the counter when we reach the bathroom upstairs, and I let go of my arm so he could determine what needs to be done. I am horrible with anything relating to blood; A nasty case of the flu- I could handle that, blood-not so much.

Specs readjusts his glasses so he could see well and rummages through the cabinet adjacent to me, pulling out tweezers. As I survey my arm, I could see the jagged, angry red lines from where the glass had cut me.

"There are still a few small shards of glass in your arm, so I'm gonna need to pull them out. It might sting," he informed me with a grimace.

My arm jerks and I clench my eyes shut when he removes the first piece.

"Sorry," he apologizes gently. "Why don't you tell Kate a story, Snipeshooter?" He suggests. Snipeshooter grins widely at the opportunity.

"Well, once upon a time there was a cowboy. His name was Jack," Snipeshooter began. I smile at the familiar name and share a knowing look with Specs. I think I know where this was going.

"He was the bravest, most awesomest person ever. One day, there were these really big, fat, mean men who raised the rate of papes. Cowboy Jack got really mad, so he got all of the newsies from all of the countries around the world to stop the meanies and go on strike. There were newsies from Brooklyn, Harlem, Queens, the Bronx, and 'Hattan. They all showed up at the square one day. It was a lot of people, like maybe a million. They all gots together and then the bad men gave up. Then, everyone was really happy because we won the strike. The end!" Snipeshooter finishes telling his tale and looks at me with a proud smile on his face. While I was listening to the youngster's effort at distracting me, I didn't even realize that Specs is done with removing the glass. Snipeshooter left when he heard one of the other younger boys calling his name.

"Well, the good news is that none of the cuts are deep enough to need stitches," He hands me another wet towel so I can dry the dried blood off of my other hand that I am using to apply pressure with. "Tough day, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess I need to figure out what I should do now. I don't really have a job anymore," I add thoughtfully.

"Don't worry about it. We'll figure something out. Ya can just stay here for the night since prob'ly shouldn't walk back alone to the orphanage with that arm of yours, anyways," Specs responds, wrapping my arm tightly in a strip of cloth from about three-quarters of the way up my arm down to right above the crease in my elbow. Once Specs finishes, I jump down from the counter, dragging along my newly bandaged arm. I was grateful that the feeling of nausea is now finally subsiding.

Exiting the bathroom, we see the older boys gathering around the bunks. I sit down on the bed I was using for the previous night and wait for Jack to begin speaking.

"So, we talked to Kloppman," Jack began, "and we think it would be best for ya to stay with us at the lodging house. If you went and got another factory job, the same thing might happen again. Ya wouldn't have to be a newsie, we can start payin' ya from now on to be a teacher. And as for the housing inspector, we'll deal with that when we gets to it."

Everyone faces me to see what my answer is going to be, hope clearly visible in their eyes. I thought this through. Jack made a good point about the factory job. I really do love it here, and I guess if everyone was okay with it, then it shouldn't be a problem.

"That doesn't sound so bad," I said as I made up my mind. "I'll need to get all of my stuff from the orphanage, though."

"Kloppman can take you over there now before it starts to get dark. It's better that he does it so he can talk to the nuns about ya stayin' here."

I walk downstairs alone, and faintly hear the boys carry on with another conversation and start with more shenanigans.

"Ready to go?" Kloppman asks. I nod my head and proceed in the direction of the orphanage. We stay silent for most of the journey. It's much more pleasant now compared to the newsboys were always very loud and rowdy.

"It will be nice to have a girl around the lodging house." Kloppman said, breaking through the quietness, "they always seem to behave better when you're around."

"I'm just hoping I will be able to handle it. I mean, being around them for a couple of hours is tiring enough," I voice. The conversation ends, though, as we came upon the orphanage. One of the nuns clothed in navy greets us as we enter.

"Oh Kate, I was beginning to get a little worried. You usually aren't gone for that long. I hope you're alright! God help us if something were to happen to you!".

"I was wondering if I could speak to you about letting Kate live with me?" Kloppman questions the nun.

"Certainly. We start to get so crowded here during the winter months. There is already enough kids here as it is," Responds the nun. I chose this moment to go to my room and gather up my few belongings. Two dresses, toiletries, my journal, a copy of _Pride and Prejudice _and _Sherlock Holmes_, the fifteen cents from under my pillow, and finally a note my mother had written to me while on her death bed were all neatly put into an oversized bag. I return to the front room to see that everything is settled.

"One last question Mr. Kloppman," She states, "Where is your residence?" I knew that Kloppman couldn't tell her that I was going to be living at the Newsboy's Lodging House, because she would have never let me go. He wasn't going to lie either

"It's an apartment on Duane Street," he told her without hesitation. It wasn't a lie; the lodging house really was on Duane Street. She seemed to believe him and blesses us before we went on our way.

It was dusk now, but we could only tell by the time because the gray clouds still loom over the city like a blanket. Exhausted, I set foot into the lodging house, paying the six cent fee, and saunter up the stairs to my bed. Only a fraction of the newsboys were here so I figured they must be at Medda's. I drop my bag next to my bunk, and don't even bother to change out of my dress before I fall asleep.

**So what do ya think? I must say, I am pretty proud of this chapter. I think I have an idea of what I want to do now, so more updates are coming soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So here's the next chapter! Happy New Year! I want to thank you for all of your continued support! Please feel free to leave any comments or suggestions. *Now Edited***

**Chapter 5- Friend or Foe?**  
Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep  
Dreaming about the things that we could be  
But baby, I've been, I've been playing hard,  
Sitting, no more counting dollars  
We'll be counting stars, yeah we'll be counting stars

~One Republic: Counting Stars~

I began to stir from my sleep when I felt someone poking my shoulder.

"Snipeshooter stop, you're gonna wake her," I hear Mush scold.

Immediately the poking ceases and I feel a weight lift off the bed. I open my eyes a minute or so later only to see the younger kids tugging and pulling on Mush's shirt, Jack calling out the nightly rounds for the washroom, and Kid Blink running around the room holding Race's cigar with a rather irritated Race pursuing him.

"She's awake. Can I see if she'll read us a bedtime story now?" Snipeshooter impatiently asks Mush, continuing to tug on the hem of the older boy's shirt.

"Sure, I'll read you a story. Anything in mind?" I interject.

"I want you to choose. You always tell the best stories!" Snipeshooter exclaims, hopping up onto his bunk and staring at me with eager eyes.

The younger boys gathered around to listen to the story, while the older boys either started a game of cards or sat attentive from their bunks.

"Sherlock Holmes was one of the brightest detectives of his times; he could solve any case that was presented to him.

"_Any_?" Snipeshooter asks in awe.

"Yes. Now shush." I put my finger over my lips to signify for him to be quiet, "So, it wasn't out of the ordinary when a frazzled woman came into their office to tell her tragic tale, as so many who often visited did…" a tone of eerie mystery evident in my tone.

"…And so once again Sherlock, with the help of his partner, were able to conclude that the perpetrator had been no other than Dr. Roylott Grimsby. Who in the end, had been killed by his own killing machine."

I set the book I had read so many times down, my fingers tracing over the words _Sherlock Holmes: The Adventures of the Speckled Band _engraved on the cover_. _I scan the room to find the younger boys asleep in their bunks, having drifted off halfway through the story, and the others who had listened in now dealing out cards for a new game of poker. Wide awake, I make my way towards the window and out onto the fire escape. The cool, fresh air was oddly welcoming.

Sometime later groaning from the window frame being lifted is heard and the metal platform shudders underneath the newly-added weight of another person. I turn to see Jack raising his other leg through the opening of the window.

"Jeez, it's freezing out here! Are ya actually tryin' to catch a cold?" Jack teases, with a small amount of truth apparent in what he said.

"Nah, just trying to think." We sat there for a while, soaking the comfortable silence that fell between us.

"Ya know what I hate most about Nou Yawk?"

"What?" I giggle, amused at Jack's ability to bring the topic of Santa Fe into every conversation.

"How ya can nevah see the stars. I bet in Santa Fe ya can see more stars 'n ya can count."

"Even now we can see more stars than we can count," I counter.

"Yeah, but I hear it's like lookin' at an ocean."

"Doesn't that sound lonely?" I ponder, "All out West livin' by yourself? A small fish in a big ocean."

"I'll be lonely wherever I go. I ain't got any fam'ly to keep me company."

"Jack Kelly! You're so stupid sometimes!" I reprimand playfully, "Don't go tellin' me that bull. You've got thirty boys at your beck-and-call in there and you ignorant enough to say _you ain't got family_? Heck, they would even kiss the Delanceys if ya asked em' to."

"And you have me," I add, my voice becoming softer. "Don't ever forget that."

Jack was about to respond when I tense up. The echo of someone groaning from the alley below drifted up to where we were sitting. I warily glance at Jack, who picks up on the faded moans, as well. Carefully, we made our way down the steps alert for anyone lurking around. The sound of something shifting behind the dumpsters caught our attention. Making our way over there, we came upon a boy about my age covered with bruises and dried blood. I turn my head towards the entrance of the alleyway when I hear the pitter-patter of footsteps running away. I was too late, though, because all I can see are the silhouette of two figures darting around the corner. I look back at Jack to see that he was holding the now unconscious boy in his arms.

"Let's take him up to the lodge, and when he wakes up we can figure out what happened," Jack instructed me.

The mystery boy was placed on an empty bed, and tended to by some of the other boys. Knowing that I would be accompanying Jack on his paper selling tomorrow, I decided that I should prepare for bed. Within minutes, I was drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

"Up and at em' boys! Time to sell the papes! Rise and Shine!" Kloppman yells the next morning, summoning the boys from their beauty sleep.

"What about him?" Runner asked Jack, gesturing towards the still sleeping boy we had rescued from the alley last night.

"I'll take care of him," Kloppman informs us.

Eventually, everyone was awake and energetically walking out the door. It never ceases to amaze me how much energy they had. I mean it was barely dawn, and they were acting as if they had drunken three cups of coffee. We stop by the nuns to get breakfast before we made our way towards the gates.

"Well, well, well. Who is this lovely lady here?" Morris Delancey asked, adjusting the bowler hat on top of his head.

"Finally found someone for yourself, Jack? Never thought of you to be one who would go for the younger ladies, but we do what we have to do," Oscar Delancey mocks, while Morris sends Jack kissy faces.

"Why don't ya go and pick on someone ya own size? I think I sees some preschoolers over dere," Race retorts, defending his friends.

Jack puts a protective arm around my shoulder and added, "You lil' as lay a hand on her, and you'll be dead in the Hudson River by tomorrow mornin'."

They must have gotten the message because they scurry away, tripping here and there, and began to stand in line for the morning edition.

"Kate, ya can go stand by the Horace Greely statue while I go get the papes. I'll be back in a second," Jack tells me before leaving to go to the front of the line.

"Alright let's get ready to carry the bannah!" Jack rallies, arriving back at our set meeting point.

"Where are we going today, Jacky?"

"Hostage situation on Coney Island! Hundreds of lives at risk!" Jack cries out on Park Row, only a few blocks south of the World Distribution Center.

Having a girl beside you really helps to sell the papes, especially when they have their arm wrapped up in a bandage. Jack anticipated this happening, which explains the excess papers in his bag. I thought of all the stuff we made up today:

_An older lady wobbled over, hoping to buy a paper. "My word. What happened to you sweetheart?"_

_"She got out of da insane insylum yesterday. Payin' housing for me an my sis now," Jack told her solemnly._

_I grabbed onto the lady's arm. "Your cat! Yes, yes, your cat. She died but she wants to speak to you. She says she forgives you for getting another one, and that she is up in heaven where you can't put her in awful dresses anymore."_

_"Oh my, how did you know? My deary Isabelle, she died a few months ago!" her shaking hand giving Jack a nickel in exchange for a pape. _

_"Thank ya miss." Jack tilted his newsie cap at her. _

_After she left Jack gave me an odd look, but I just shrugged as we both began to laugh until our stomachs ached._

To say the least, it was a long but very interesting day.

We arrived back at the lodge and saw the new boy was sitting on the couch watching Snipeshooter and Les play fighting with their wooden swords. His face had regained its color, and his bruises were beginning to turn a light purple and yellow color. I now could see that he actually didn't look half bad. He had a very light tan to match his golden hair, and his height made him look rather skinny . He had big green eyes and soft, pale lips. I was actually kind of attracted to him, until he started talking.

I walked over to where he was sitting and introduced myself, "I'm Kate. Do you need me to get you anything?"

"No," he replied sharply. I was a bit taken aback by his attitude.

"Ok. Well, if you do feel free to ask me."

"What is a _girl_ doing in a _boy's _lodging house?" He asked me, scrunching his nose.

"It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell it to you sometime," I told him with a light laugh. This time I really did leave to go upstairs. Halfway up, I realize that I didn't even know the boy's name yet. It's going to be a long next couple of days with this boy around, maybe even longer if he decides to stay here permanently_._ I just pray he didn't act like this all the time.

**A/N Please feel free to leave any comments or suggestions of anything that you might want to happen next. Again, I do not take ANY credit for the use of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story ****_The Adventure of the Speckled Band_**** in this chapter. Feel free to look it up if you want to read the full story of it. It's really interesting. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Sorry for not updating sooner. I am back in school now, so I will be most likely updating on the weekends. Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**EARLIER THAT DAY: 3****RD**** PERSON P.O.V.**

It was just after the majority of the newsies had left the circulation desk, when a man, filled with vengeance and who gave off a cold disposition, approached the Delancey brothers.

"I'm looking for a girl by the name of Kate Astaire. Ever heard of her?" The gentleman queried.

"Neva' heard of a Kate before," Morris said bluntly, "I see a lot of goils around. What makes ya think I know this one?"

"She hangs out with the newsboys," he added, a lightbulb went off in both of the Delancey's heads as they realized they knew the girl. In fact, they had just seen her this morning, but they kept a pokerface on to if there was anything else they could get out of the man.

"We'll keep an eye out. But, don't ya think ya should give us a little something special for our extra labor. Unless, that is, ya don't want her as much as you say ya do," Oscar implied, a smirk forming on his face.

"I'm offering a reward for anyone who finds her. Maybe the sound of five dollars in your pocket will help spark your memory. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter. I'll just need the proof," he informed them.

"Oh, and if you need to contact me my name is Mr. James Dunnigan. I am a foreman for the textile factory a few blocks down," And with that the man departed, leaving the boys to start their scheming.

**PRESENT DAY: KATE'S P.O.V.**

I was sleeping that night when I started to have another nightmare. The difference between this one and the one that happened previously was that instead of the boss evaluating my work, it was my parent's ghostly figures hovering over me. They screamed obscenities at me while they condemned my stitching.

"You fail at everything, just like you failed at keeping us alive!" My mother screamed at me.

"I'm sorry! I did everything I could but the doctor said there was nothing he could do to stop the disease. I was only four at the time!" I pleaded. Then, they vanished.

"No! No! Come back! I said I was sorry!" I screamed into the air, and soon the ground started to shake.

"Hey, girl wake up!" I shot up from my dream when I heard the unfamiliar voice rouse me from my sleeping state. My eyes wandered to find the boy my age, whose name I still did not know, hunching over my sweaty figure.

"You okay? You don't look so good," he stated, revealing a small hint of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It happens all the time. Nearly every night, so I'm used to it," I explained.

"Well since we're up anyways, why don't ya tell me that long story you'se was talking about earlier," he suggested, "We've got all night."

"Oh, so now you want to talk. What happened to Mr. Grouchy from earlier? And don't tell me you're bipolar or something," I accused him.

"No, not bipolar. Just a little uncomfortable in a new place and all," he justified, "Whatever. It's not like I care." He said, suddenly not interested in hearing the story anymore.

"Well, could you at least tell me your name?" I asked him, annoyed with his attitude.

"Daze," he said, an impassive look on his face and climbed into his bunk. I thought it was a fairly fitting name since he continually left me bewildered at his hateful feelings towards me.

I woke up early the next morning when I heard one of the boys hacking up a lung. Figuratively, of course. I groaned at the thought of one of my boys coming down with the inevitable colds they caught during the harsh winter months. I scanned the room looking for who was the source of the coughing, and my eyes settled on Crutchy. Deciding I should get him a glass of water, I mentally added making sure to stop by the store today to pick him up some medicine. Kloppman would take care of him, so as to reduce the amount of people that were exposed to anything contagious. I would only stay home for the day if he started to come down with something really bad.

"Here," I said, handing him the glass of room temperature water, "Try and get some sleep. There is no way the boys are gonna let you sell today."

"Thanks," he replied, his voice breaking at the end from all the congestion in his lungs.

Already awake, I decided I would treat the boys with a nice breakfast this morning, which meant eggs and French toast,and prepared a batch of chicken noodle soup for Crutchy. The walls and ceilings were thin, so I could hear the creaking from the added weight of everyone wake up and the muffled noises from different conversations. I could hear excited shouts when the boys noticed the delectable aroma coming from the kitchen. I just finished setting out plates

"You're the best!" Mush said, hugging me tightly from behind.

Daze was the last come down. Instead of grabbing a bite to eat, he just walked out the door. The boys looked confusedly at the door but just shrugged them off. I heard through the ceiling this morning that Daze was one of the newsiest that lived on the streets, so they probably thought he was just heading to the gates early.

"We can clean up, Kate," Specs told me, standing up and kissing my temple.

"Thanks," I replied and bounded up the steps to get dressed and ready for the day.

Around lunchtime, I told Jack that I was going to go to the pharmacy to pick up Crutchy's medicine. The family who owned the pharmacy adopted a child from the orphanage I used to live in. So since they knew me, they would so usually just gave me whatever medicine I needed for free.

I was leaving the pharmacy when I was cornered by the Delancey brothers.

"Hey toots," Oscar called, closing in on me.

"Or should we say Ms. Astaire? It's not very smart for an attractive girl like you to be walking alone in the city. You should be glad we caught you instead of someone else," Morris informed me.

"Like someone who actually has a brain?" I retorted. Oscar grabbed my wrist tightly, dragging me further into the alley. "Let me go," I said, my teeth clenched tightly while struggling to get away.

"HEY! Get off of her!" A distant voice yelled from the front of the alley. I turned and saw it was Daze. He ran up to us, and before I could react he had knocked both of the Delanceys out cold. I was too shocked to realize it earlier, but I had never told them my last name. So, how did they know it?

Daze and I decided we would walk to Tibby's together since we were both headed that way.

"So, how about you'se tell me that 'long story' you mentioned earlier," he suggested.

"Not before you tell me why you dislike me so much," I negotiated.

"Fine," he agreed.

**Thanks for reading! Sorry it's so short. I will try to update as much as I can over the weekend. Any suggestions or comments are welcomed**!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Previously:**

_Daze and I decided we would walk to Tibby's together since we were both headed that way. _

_"So, how about you'se tell me that 'long story' you mentioned earlier," he suggested._

_"Not before you tell me why you dislike me so much," I negotiated. _

_"Fine," he agreed._

**Present:**

"Well," he began "when I was in the alley, it was a few of the other newsies on the street who soaked me. Word is going around that the old foreman from the textile factory has it out for ya. He is even offering five dollars for whoever finds ya- dead or alive. They were looking for information on where you were. Of course, I told them I had neva' seen you'se before. But, I realized it was you when told me your name in the lodging house. I got mad when I found out you were the reason why I got beat up. It doesn't help my reputation as a newsie to get beat up, ya know."

I just stood there while a wave of fear took over me, but I didn't let it show. I guess that is how the Delanceys knew my name, and the reason why they attacked me.

"Did he tell you the reason why?" I asked. He shook his head no.

"I guess that leads to that 'long story' of mine," I told him, sighing.

"It was just after my ma, pop, and me had moved off of Ellis Island and into one of the tenements on the Lower East Side. My Dad got sick with Typhoid Fever, and since my mom was around him taking care of him all the time, she got it too. Unfortunately, it was too severe to recover from and they both passed away,"

"I'm sorry. It must 'ave been real hard," he commented. I shrugged.

"Most of the newsies' parents are dead. At least mine didn't abuse me. I spent a while on the street before the orphanage took me in. I found a job at the textile factory, and started working from Mr. Dunnigan. I dealt with him and his cruel punishments until one day, I had had enough. After my back lashing on him, he was about to burn me with the fire poker, so I knocked him out and ran. I needed a job that payed, so the lodging house started giving me a salary for my teaching services. That's why I'm living there now," I finished.

"Listen, I appreaciate you guys saving me an' all, but it sounds like you've gotten yourself in quite a mess. I don't know that I want to be there when something goes wrong. Thanks for the hospitality, but I'll be on my way," and with that he left.

I had a couple more blocks till I reached the diner. If I told the boys what happened, they would get all worried. They probably wouldn't let me go outside a ten foot radius from them at all times. What would they do? Soak ? They would just get thrown in the Refuge. Besides, the only people that know are Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum Delancey, and a few of the other newsies.

"What took ya so long?" Jack questioned as I made my way through Tibby's and sat down next to him.

"Long line. I guess a lot of people are getting sick," I lied.

"We should give Kate a nickname. All the newsies have one," Boots said thoughtfully, "What about Spice. That has a nice ring to it," he told me.

"Spice- I like it." Jack said, approving of the name. I thought of the reasons for why Boots would choose that nickname.

"Yeah, she adds flavor to everything. Her hair is kind of that brown color too," Mush added. I just smirked and shook my head while laughing at their antics.

"On that note, I wonder how Crutchy is doing. We should prob'ly get that medicine to him," Jack said, wrinkles appearing on his forehead. I could tell he was concerned about Crutchy's condition. He was the closest friend Jack had, and practically a brother.

Back at the lodge, Crutchy's condition had appeared to be worse than this morning. That was expected though, since he had just started showing symptoms this morning. Crutchy hesitantly took the medicine, and tried to go back to sleep.

"Hey what happened to that kid- Daze?" Race wondered.

"I saw him on my back from the pharmacy. He said he was gonna go his own way," I informed them.

"His loss," I heard Race mutter under his breath.

"You heard it Race. I win. You owe me that nickel," Specs boasted. "He didn't even last 3 days," he added at the end. Race grudgingly handed Specs the money, and sulked at losing the bet that they had apparently made earlier about how long Daze would stay at the lodge.

The younger boys were all here so I thought I should get our teaching lesson over with. Some of them protested when they found out, but they figured there was no way out of it. I just had them working on arithmetic problems out of their books today, so I pulled out my journal. I hadn't written in it for at least a week, so I thought now is a good as time as any. My latest story is about a girl who finds out her dad has gone MIA during war, so she travels halfway around the world, sneaking onto boats and various other means of transportation, trying to find him.

I always had a passion for writing; it was my outlet for this hectic world. It was my dream to become a star reporter one day. But, that was a dream I couldn't afford. I was so into my writing that I didn't even notice the boys had finished their work, and were now having a see-who-can-jump-the-farthest-off-the-bed contest. I managed to stop them before someone fell and split their head open. I told them to go downstairs and bother the older boys. When they left, I made up my mind that I was going to go visit Medda before her evening show. I needed some girl bonding time. She was the closest thing I had to a mother.

Skittery escorted me to the theatre, and told me that one of the boys would come by and pick me up in two hours. I knocked on the door marked with _Medda_ written on it, and was enthusiastically greeted by a petite, red-haired woman.

"Oh, Kate! You've grown so much since the last time I've seen you!" She exclaimed.

"You saw me two months ago," I said exasperated, but still smiling.

"I've heard you moved in with the boys. Why don't you tell me all about it," Medda proposed in a sing-song voice.

"Actually, if you don't mind, I kinda came here to get my mind off of all that stuff," I clarified.

"Oh, I completely understand." She said, a warm smile gracing her face. We walked around the theatre just catching up on gossip from the Broadway rumor mill. I stopped when I saw the beautiful grand piano in the orchestra pit. Medda saw me staring at it.

"Do you still play? We aren't using it right now and you are more than welcome to play a couple of songs. I always enjoyed listening to you play when you were little. You looked so graceful, too," she added.

I sat down and started to play a few keys. I started off rusty, but eventually the notes came flooding back to me.

When you try your best, but you don't succeed  
When you get what you want, but not what you need  
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below  
When you're too in love to let it go  
But if you never try you'll never know  
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face  
When you lose something you cannot replace  
Tears stream down your face  
And I...

Tears stream down your face  
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes  
Tears stream down your face  
And I...

Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

**Coldplay's "Fix You" (A/N Please note that the lyrics are copyright to Coldplay and I do not take ANY credit for them)**

I poured my heart and soul into the song. I wrote it when I was twelve years old. It was my favorite because I could relate to it so well. I heard not one, but three people clapping at the end of it. I guess I had been playing for longer than I thought because Jack and Race were watching from the mezzanine. They walked down and over to where Medda and I were.

"Ya ready to go, Spice?" Jack asked. Medda looked confused and I told her about my new newsie name. I felt better after talking to Medda. She always lifted my spirits. I told Medda goodbye and that I would visit her again soon, and followed the boys on the short journey home.

**Thanks for all the great reviews and follows! Keep em' coming! The song used in this chapter is Coldplay's "Fix You". It is one of my favorite of theirs. Of course, I give all credit to Coldplay for the song. To see the cover I based**** Kate's performance off, go to YouTube and type in LizzyKingMusic, and you should be able to find her beautiful cover there! For some weird reason it wouldn't let me add a hyperlink. Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**(A/N) Sitting here with my Starbucks and beef jerky, I thought I would treat you guys for an update. I apologize for not updating sooner. Stupid school gets in the way, but unfortunately there is nothing I can do about it. I would also like to thank my wonderfully loyal readers. I do this for you guys! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

The next few days passed in a blur. The Delanceys hadn't made any moves since the alley incident, which was starting to make me paranoid. But then again, maybe Daze had scared them off, and surely Morris and Oscar aren't stupid enough to pull anything in front of the boys. I hadn't told the boys about it yet. I know, I know. Sounds stupid, right? Well, some things are better left unsaid. I haven't seen the need to tell them yet, and I don't want to be a nuisance, after all they are nice enough to let me stay with them in the lodging house.

It was nearly dawn outside, the air crisp and the sky a hue of red, along with rays of yellow from the rising sun. A break from the monochromatic gray sky we have had in the recent weeks. I could see my breath in front of me, which told me it was at least freezing outside. It brought back memories of an old saying my dad had told me:

_Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning._

I had gotten a head start, but the boys soon caught up to me.

"It's a beautiful day to be carryin' the banner!" Jack exclaimed with a bounce in his step, trying to rally up his fellow newsies. He was met with an echo of agreement.

They all started their various conversations, while I fell into step with David, who had just got here, Les, Mush, and Kid Blink. The boys were having a discussion about some baseball game, which was one thing I had no knowledge of, so I turned and started conversation with Les instead. He always has something completely crazy and random on his mind, which is why I love him. He's a kid, ya know, all innocent with big hopes and dreams.

"Sarah is going to a dance tonight. Have you ever been to a dance, Kate?"He asked. I shook my head no in response, his dropped his jaw exaggeratedly, outraged at the thought of me never having been invited to a dance before.

"This hoity-toity guy asked her to go with him. I don't like him very much," Les continued, saying every thought that was on his mind.

"You should be happy for her," I playfully scolded him, slightly angling my head down so I could talk to him properly.

"I guess. But she deserves a guy better than him, like a knight or something!" He exclaimed, and drew his sword. His attention span was depleted as he began to duel with his invisible opponent. I smiled at how sweet that boy was, just another reason to add to my list of why I am so fond of him.

The boys had gathered around the platform, waiting for the gaits to swing open, marking the start of a day filled with selling newspapers to the citizens of New York. I kept my head down and let my hair hide the side of my face, trying to stay out of sight from the Delanceys. I was still accompanying Jack on his daily paper routes, and I was even learning the names of streets and shortcuts in the big city. I was handed a copy of today's editon, and began scouting for interesting headlines to hawk, and to see if I needed to make up any. One particular headline caught my eye, and something told me I wouldn't need to improve the truth about it at all because it was full of lies anyways.

**REBELLIOUS GIRL VICOUSLY ASSAULTS DEFENSELESS FOREMAN**

**In this wake of child advocacy, a horrendous tale has come forth about an uncalled for attack by a young textile worker in the Flat Iron district of New York. This leads to the controversy of whether children should be considered victims, or simply reckless juveniles harassing their supervisors, thus inflicting the consequences on themselves. **

**Managers on the scene describe that their boss, Mr. James Dunnigan, was found unconscious in his office after a confrontation about the girl's tardiness earlier that morning. Immediately after, the girl fled the scene. Due to child protection laws, we will not disclose the name of the girl at this time. Eyewitnesses describe hearing the noise of shouting and an unidentified object shattering. Upon further investigation, we have found that the girl in question is not a first time offender. Eight years ago, she had been charged with stealing and assault, both against some of the poorest inhabitants of New York, its local newsboys. In court, she pleaded that she only pick-pocketed the boy's earnings to buy food for that night, and had fought back after he retaliated to retrieve his money, when she was caught by a police officer. She was later bailed out by a group of nuns who owned the local orphanage.**

**"These children are lucky that we offer them a place to work in the first place and to have the ability to bring home extra money for their families," explains the foreman in a recent interview. "We try and teach these kids responsibility, and when a worker steps out of line, such as what happened in this recent situation, it is our job to discipline them for their actions."**

**While many are fighting for the rights of unrepresented children, they may be looking at the wrong end of the stick. Several accounts of unruly children back lashing on their supervisors have been reported. One depicts a scene of an out of control worker, only the age of eight, pushing his administrator into a pile of lint, causing pieces to fly into the nooks and crannies of the machinery, and start a fire that ended up burning down the entire building. There are stacks of cases similar to the likes of this one.**

**At this time, Mr. Dunnigan is in stable condition and has resumed working. The case is being investigated, and the foreman will be pressing charges. This may be final straw that ignites the brewing debate over child labor laws.**

To say I was disgusted at the article would be an understatement. It was completely biased, but that's not what the boys were upset about. It was the event that happened eight years ago, the one that almost landed me in the Refuge. I began to feel even sicker as I heard the headline ricochet from shouting newsboys on various corners around the square.

The only thing on everyone's mind right now was the fact that I had stolen from a _newsie_. Of course, I would never do that now, but I was desperate at the time. It was those few years when I was living on the streets after my parents had died, still trying to find a way to make it from day-to-day. Jack looked at me as if to ask if what the article had said was really true. He shook his head and just walked away, to disappoint to say anything. Some of the boys almost had a look of sympathy on their face, but it soon changed to confusion, and then anger. Eventually, I was left standing alone in the square. Sure, the article didn't say my name, but it didn't need to for everyone to figure out who it was about. And with their perfect timing, the Delanceys chose this moment to saunter over to me.

"Looks like ya famous now, sweet cheeks," Oscar taunted.

"Listen, I am _really _not in the mood right now," I snapped, almost too irritated to actually reply.

"Maybe she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or should I say _newspaper_," Morris joked with Oscar, laughing amusedly. When I couldn't take any more of this, I turned and left. "I bet she has anger management issues," Oscar added, calling after me, still trying to push my buttons.

I decided I would spend the day in the peaceful company of Central Park. Rage was boiling inside of me while I reflected on how this day had gone from good to atrocious in the matter of a newspaper article. It made the only people I actually cared about and were nice enough to take me in, turn on me and ruin the relationships I had formed. It may seem silly that the boys would get mad about something that happened eight years ago, but it was the fact that I had stolen from the least deserving people that really got to them. They understood the hardships of being a newsie, and what it felt like to go a night without food from being mugged earlier in the day. Oh, how I wish this whole thing had never happened. At times like this, it was really nice to have a mother figure to talk to. I felt my head throbbing from the oncoming headache. Apparently, I am awful at keeping track of time because once again I realized that it was already evening, and I had spent the entire day in Central Park. I sighed, and thought about heading back to the lodge .But, you know what? I bet the boys don't even want to see me. The more time I give them to blow off steam, the better.

I made my way towards the library. I was in urgent need of new reading material, and what better way to pass time than settling down with a good book that can take you on an adventure, making you forget all of your petty problems?

When I entered the library, I could see it was huge, with several help desks located in the vicinity.

"What can I help a fine young lady like you with?" A boy about my age, who had similar features to Mush, asked.

"Any suggestions? I want to read something that has a good hook to it," I requested.

"What are some of the books you have been reading lately? Just so I can get an idea of what you might like," he inquired.

"Recently, I have been fascinated by the _Sherlock Holmes_ Series, but I am open to pretty much anything else," I answered.

"Lucky for you, we have the newest edition hot off the presses. It was released yesterday, and I picked up a few copies figuring it would fly off the shelves anyways. Personally, I love the books too. Once I begin reading it, I can't stop until I've finished.

"Well, it is nice to meet someone with the same passion for books. My name is Kate, by the way. I didn't happen to catch yours," I said, faltering at the end.

"My goodness, my manners just flew out the window! My name is Julian. Julian Guzman." He said, and kissed my hand. He pointed me in the direction, and I quickly found the book. I sat there reading for a while until I deemed it was time that I made my way to the lodge, waving goodbye to Julian. I quickened my pace as I notice the rapidly darkening sky. Upon arrival, I was met with silence and cold stares. I guess I wasn't out for long enough.

"Brooklyn's coming over tonight to play some poker," Jack told me in a monotone voice, not even looking me in the eye.

"Sounds fun," I said, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll finally get to meet the King o' Brooklyn."

Again, the same awkward silence. I sighed and walked upstairs. I estimated that I had another three hours until Spot Conlon's boys showed up. In the meantime, I need to figure out how to make things right between the boys and me.

**Thanks for reading! Make sure to leave a comment or suggestion if you have any! How do you think Kate and the boys will make up? Will they fix things, or will she get taken before they get the chance to? I will try and update again over the weekend, but no promises. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Hello lovelies! It's a three day weekend! *hold for celebration dance* Which also means I may get more of a chance to update. I have relatives coming to town but I should be able to squeeze another chapter in there somewhere. Anyways, on with the chapter!**

It had been a few hours since I had last spoken to Jack. I busied myself with teaching the younger boys, trying to squeeze in a lesson before Conlon's territory arrived. I have to admit, I was a little anxious to see Spot again, we had only actually talked for about five minutes when I first met him. The conversation between Spot and me replayed in my head. I was so into my own world, I didn't even realize one of the young lads pulling on the hem of my shirt.

"Ms. Kate, what's the matter?" Buttons asked with wide eyes, all innocent and childlike at seven years old.

"I'm just a little sad is all. People get mad at each other every once in a while, and the boys aren't very happy with me right now." I told him, giving a sad smile.

"My parents fought with each other a lot," he said thoughtfully, probably remembering a dark past that nearly all newsies had, "But we'll never get mad at you. You're the bestest teacher ever. You're so nice and you smell really good too." A toothy smile forming on his lips, and gave me as big of a hug as his small frame could muster.

"I'll always love you guys too," I told them laughing lightly, sounding like the tinkling of bells.

I heard the door creak open downstairs, and greetings being given to the visitors. The younger boys gave me a pleading look, asking permission to say hi to their friends from Brooklyn, I shook my head in approval. Spot may seem rather tough, but he was surprisingly good with kids. I now stood alone in the bunk room, playing out scenarios of what would happen if I walked downstairs. I didn't have to make up my mind, though, because I could already hear the muffled conversation of a group of people approaching where I was.

"Let me get my new deck of cards. Bought it with my winnings from Sheepshead the other day." Race told them, walking up the stairs and through the doorway. The group consisted of Race, Spot, and Blink. Race and Blink stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Oh, hey Kate." Blink said, his voice taken off guard, but still possessed an uncaring attitude. Well, at least I now know they were still mad at me, not that that's a good thing. Meanwhile, Race ignored me altogether and was searching around his bunk for his deck of cards. Spot seemed to not even notice the tense atmosphere, and started a conversation with me.

"So my boirdies are tellin' me ya live full-time here now. Is that true?"

"Yeah. Things happened and the boys were nice enough to take me in. I'm sure glad they did cause who knows where I'd be living if they hadn't." I could hear Race scoff and Blink mutter something under his breath.

"You'll have to come to Brooklyn sometime. See where the real newsies-" Spot started, but was interrupted by Race.

"My cards aren't here! I put them right in the mattress fold by my pillow," Race said, speaking faster the angrier he got.

"Whoa, calm down buddy," Spot quelled. "Did you check beneath your bed?" Race looked at him with an impatient and very annoyed facial expression.

"I swear- if anyone stole my cards I'm gonna soak the livin' daylights outta them," he said threateningly.

"Okay, when was the last time you saw them?" Blink asked.

"Lunchtime."

"Let's think about it. Who has been up here since lunch?" Blink wondered. Both of their eyes landed on me.

"I promise I didn't touch them," I told them, putting my hands in the air as if to surrender.

"Really? Because you seem to not be tellin' all of the truth lately," Race said accusingly. This time Spot caught on to our little feud, but quickly dismissed it with a shrug.

"Found them," Spot called from Race's bunk. He was holding up the bag that held Race's newspapers.

"Must not of put them away," Race grumbled.

"No kidding," Spot added teasingly, rolling his eyes. "Let's go play poker. Ya comin' Kate?" he asked. I protested but Spot quickly stopped me. "I wasn't really askin'"

A few of the Brooklyn boys noticed the shorter temper of Manhattan, but it didn't really affect the overall mood. That is, until Spot told them I would playing too.

"No!" Jack shouted, jumping out of his seat.

"Why not?" Spot asked in confusion.

"Jack, I understand you're mad, but I am so sick of the way you guys are treating me. It happened _eight years ago_. Let it go!" I yelled, releasing my frustrations.

"Ugh, your just an arrogant and stuck up bitch. Why don't you just go back to the orphanage where you came from, or better yet why don't I just go and turn you in to Mr. Dunnigan myself?!" Jack yelled in reply. Jack came up to me, and out of pure rage, shoved me into the wall. It went silent - dead silent, which is saying a lot to be able to shut up a room filled with some of New York's loudest residents. I held back tears that were gathering in my eyes, and clamped my mouth shut so hard I could begin to felt the copper taste of blood. Now was not the time to let my emotions get the worst of me. But then again, they probably already had. Spot held a look of bewilderment, incredulous at the event that just took place.

"I don't know what is going on with you guys, but you need to fix it," Spot demanded, his leader instincts kicking in, "I didn't come here to get in the middle of whatever this is."

I didn't wait to hear what Jack had to say, I ran out of the room as fast as my body could carry me and shut the door with a bang. I really didn't want to see Jack's face. I mean, he _hit _me, and I was supposed to just accept an apology. Plus, I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold back the tears. And to just my luck, it was pouring outside. I knew I shouldn't go far in the dark, so I made my way to the side of the building and ran up the fire escape. About halfway, I collapsed onto the cold stairs and began full-out sobbing. What had I done to screw all of this up? Why does everything happy in my life end up in sadness and frustration?

"Why did the newsie climb through the window?" A voice said, talking louder over the rain so I could hear his version of "why did the chicken cross the road?"

"What?" I said completely lost at the owner of the voice's random question. The boy looked to be my age. He was very different from Julian though, more of a lighter complexion, with curly brown hair, and dimples to match. But somehow he gave off a very charming aura.

"To get to the beautiful girl, who is even more beautiful when she's not crying and completely drenched from this rain." He said cheekily. I laughed at his lame attempt of a joke.

"Aww, there's that pretty smile," he cooed.

"You must be from Brooklyn. You act like it too." I added.

"Yep, the sexiest bastards around. By the way, I'm Cryptic, Spot's third-in-line." He told me, proud of the fact that someday he might be the leader of Brooklyn.

"Neat." I said, granted I didn't sound like I was very interested.

"_Very_ neat," He corrected me.

"You're a bit full of yourself aren't you," I told him.

"Why don't you find out for yourself what I'm really like? I'll pick you up at 7 sharp on Saturday. What do ya say?" He offered. I thought about it for a moment and decided I should probably get out some. The boy seemed nice enough, he did make me feel better after all.

"Sure, but where will we be going?"

"It'll be a surprise," He told me before leaving when he heard shouts of his name from inside the lodging house. I peered through the window to see Spot saying goodbye to everyone. I sighed and waited till I knew the Brooklyn boys were further down the street. I then made my descent down the stairs. I was about to enter the lodge when I saw the back of a middle-aged man at the front desk interrogating Kloppman through the window. It must have been the housing official coming in for an inspection. I held my ear to the door, desperately trying to listen in to their conversation.

"There have been various reports coming in of a girl staying at this lodging house. I hope you do know Mr. Kloppman that it is a violation of your contract with the state to house any gender other than males with an occupation of being a newsboy," The man told Kloppman gruffly.

"I can assure you we are not housing any girls here at this time," Kloppman informed him.

"Please note that if you are ever caught housing a girl, this facility will be shut down. And if you're really saying the truth, I am sure you won't mind me having a look around," The man proposed. Kloppman got up from his seat with a grunt and guided the man to the numerous rooms throughout the battered-down complex.

Specs saw me through the window and motioned for me to get away from here. I guess the only other alternative would be to spend the night in the alley next door. I could go to Medda's, but it is too far from here at this time of night. I settled underneath the part of the roof that hung over the ground, so I wouldn't be constantly getting rained on all night long. I ended up falling asleep in the fetal position.

**I know the pace of this story has been rather slow, but it should pick up after the next chapter. Feel free to comment or PM with any suggestions you have. Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

I had always been a light sleeper, and so I slightly cracked open my eyes when I felt myself being lifted into someone's warm chest, but closed them again when I saw it was only Mush. My teeth were chattering and my entire body had gone numb from the rain, which had now turned into sleet. The pitch black sky told me it was either very, very early in the morning, or that I had only been out here for a few hours.

"God, you're freezing," I heard him quietly mutter, not realizing I was awake. I had woken up multiple times from the frigid temperatures and the harsh conditions. I had a stuffed nose from being out in the cold so long, which was making it hard to breath. I stifled a coughing fit as Mush paused all of a sudden, habving heard someone calling for his attention.

"Is she okay?" A heavily Italian-accented voice asked. I smelt the smoke from a lit cigarette, and assumed it must be Race.

"I don't know, she's really cold," Mush told him, concern evident in his tone.

"We need to get her inside soon," Race concluded.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she hated all of us," Race said, releasing a sigh as they resumed walking.

"Especially Jack, I can't believe he the one who tipped off the housing official to come check out the lodge," Mush said flabbergasted. I nearly jumped out of Mush's arms when I heard them say this. Luckily, my years of poker helped me to keep a straight face. Jack was really that mad? He was like an older brother to me, and he was willing to have me sent away just because I had stolen from a newsie a couple of years ago?

"Things got way out of line between those two - all of us really. Good thing Kloppman covered for her, who knows what would have happened if they found her," Mush continued. "I can't even imagine how she'd react if she eva found out," Mush said thoughtfully

Well then we'll never let her find out," Race answered, Mush didn't reply for a while.

"I just can't believe Jack was that mad. This may sound crazy, but with everything that happened tonight, I'm not really mad at her anymore. Do ya know what I mean?"

"Ya, I feel like I was a jerk, but I agree. Jack crossed da line. I just neva' thought he would do somethin' like that - hittin' a goil. He was always had a soft spot for her," Race added, equally shocked.

At this point I knew we weren't going to lodging house because Mush had at least walked three blocks. I wasn't too worried since I knew the boys wouldn't take me anywhere dangerous. Hopefully, we would get out of the cold soon. I heard the persistent tap of added weight, alongside creaking, from what I presumed was us going up a fire escape. I heard someone knocking on glass and a window opening from about a foot away.

"Mush? Race? What are you doing here?" A puzzled David Jacobs asked.

"Listen, I know it's short notice an' all, but Kate needs a place to stay for the night. Jack is still mad about earlier, and we can't let her sleep out here all night," Mush pleaded.

"Yeah I heard about that when we were selling papers today," David informed them.

"Well it got worse when Conlon's boys came ova'," Race told him.

"She can stay. I'll let Ma know in the morning," David relented, but enjoyed the thought of getting to spend more time with a girl he considered as his little sister. I felt myself being passed from one person to another, and then being set on a bed. The covers almost felt like fire compared to my frigid skin, but I fell asleep easily knowing that I'd be safe and warm.

I woke the next morning, only to hear the rasps of a whispered conversation, hurried and quiet.

"Oh that poor thing! Having to live with all those newsboys must be quite exhausting. Do you think I should make her something for breakfast? Is she allergic to anything?" A maternal voice asked, presumably David's mother.

"Mom, I'm sure she's fine. Just let her sleep - you too Les," David scolded, trying to keep Les's curiosity at bay, and at the same time, attempting to end the discussion so he could leave to sell newspapers.

"Alright, well be careful out there today hun," Mrs. Jacobs badgered her son.

"Okay see you later, Mom!" David called already halfway down the hall. "C'mon Les, we can't be late for the morning edition!"

"Okay," he said grudgingly, still groggy from being awake in the early hours of the morning. I heard the door close after his mother guided Les out the exit, and I went back to my peaceful sleep in attempt to rest as long as I could when I didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn to aid in the selling of the papes.

Blinding rays of light filtering through the dust-covered windows woke me from my on again-off again sleep. Glasses clinked and the sizzling of something cooking could be heard from the kitchen, and the aroma of crisp bacon wafted in the air. My throat burned slightly from coughing all night long, but I ignored it for now.

"Oh, Kate! You're awake. I made you something to eat. I am sure you are awfully hungry," David's sister exclaimed as she made her way over to me, accompanied by a plate of bacon toast and a glass of orange juice.

"Thank you," I told her as my mouth salivated at the delicious sight before me. Working with the newsies didn't offer that many opportunities for an extravagant, or what seemed extravagant to me, home-cooked breakfast.

"I'm Sarah by the way," she informed me. I had only met David and Les, but I could tell it was their sister by her resemblance to them. Her brown hair rested above her waist, messily gathered in the back by a clip. A sign she had been hard at work this morning. She wore a simple dress made of thin material, yet it fit flawlessly on her tall figure. She was only a few years my senior, but she gave off a mature ambiance that made her seem much older.

"It's delightful to finally meet you. I can't thank your family enough for letting me stay here for the night," I told her, exchanging pleasantries.

"Not a problem at all. My mom is out on a day trip to visit a friend in Queens, but I'll be here for the rest of the day," she continued, and sat in the chair adjacent to the bed. We sat in since for a while before she added, "David has told me all about you, and according to him the boys are quite fond of you. If you ever need a place to stay, feel free to come by here anytime. He also told me about what happened, and if you need someone to talk to, I'm always here for you," I just nodded in response, a little taken aback at her thoughtful gesture.

I reached for my glass of orange juice, but Sarah lightly grabbed my arm, which was still bandaged from my injury at the factory.

"When was the last time you changed your bandage?" She asked, an accusing look in her eye as she peered at my neglected bandage, with its torn and tattered strips coated in a thin layer of dirt and soot.

"I don't know, a while," I mumbled, my voice quiet voice from embarrassment.

"Well, let's have a look at it. You know, you could have easily caught an infection from not redressing your wound," She said, her kind eyes meeting mine, while reprimanding me at the same time. She peeled off the cloth to reveal mottled skin from the patterns in the fabric. I let loose a sigh of relief when I saw the angry gashes had now turned to faded scars. She gave me a damp dishcloth to clean off my arm while she went to find the nearest trashcan to throw away the bandage.

The coughing fits I had tried to hold back decided to come back at full force as I hacked up half a lung.

"Oh dear," Sarah said, scurrying back over to me. She put her hand to my forehead to check for a fever. She frowned, which wasn't a good sign.

"Your forehead feels hotter than normal. I think you may be getting sick," She concluded. I groaned at the thought of feeling miserable.

**Thanks for reading! Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I know how annoying it is when people ask for reviews and comments, but it really does help to write chapters better and faster. It just gives me an idea of what you guys think. So if you could, please give me your suggestion because they are VERY much appreciated!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The rest of the day had been filled with card games, complaints of being bored, chicken noodle soup, more complaints of being bored, mountains of tissues, and, yet again, complaints of being bored. And don't forget the chills, aches, and headaches, and coughing fits that occupied the rest of the gaps. So, to say I was extremely relieved when I saw David and Les walk through the door, along with the hope of a change of scenery, was an understatement. My prayers were answered when David explained to me that he could take me back to the lodging house. Of course, not before we were met with Sarah's "reminders" and "instructions" for the boys on how to take care of me in my ill state.

"Oh and make sure to drink plenty of water," Sarah added in last minute attempts to make sure I knew everything that I needed to know.

"Okay, thanks again for everything Sarah," I thanked her with my slightly hoarse voice.

The walk itself to the Newsboys Lodging House went rather quickly. And being in the fresh air outside after being cooped up in the tenement all day overcame how unpleasant I had been feeling. My thoughts then changed to the date I was going on with Cryptic in a little less than a week. I had been out with a boy before, but only for a couple of times. I also thought about Julian, the boy from the library help desk, he had been really nice and I thought we hit it off pretty well. But chances are, we will never see each other again. He told me he was only working at the library for winter break.

The closer we got to Duane Street, the more nauseous I felt. I was kind of scared to see the boys again after what happened. At least I knew all the boys weren't mad at me anymore, and hopefully they talked some sense into Jack while I was gone. And then there was also the fact that he reported that there was a girl living in the lodging house to the state housing authorities who ran the lodging house. If they did find out that I now secretly lived there Kloppman could have lost his job, I could have end up in the Refuge, and the state would stop funding for the lodging house. So, it wouldn't have of affected just me.

"It'll all be fine," David reassured me, sensing my unease. Boy, I sure hoped so. I didn't get the chance to ponder on it for too long because we had just arrived at No.9 Duane Street, the address to the lodging house.

"Hey Kloppy," David greeted the old man with his usual amount of cheerfulness.

"The boys are upstairs," Kloppman informed us, already knowing what we would ask.

"Thanks," David replied, leading the way up the old and creaky stairs. The butterflies in my stomach where now flying around crazily as we heard the chatter coming from the bunkroom. I honestly just wanted to climb back in bed and fall into a dreamless sleep.

"Kate!" Snipeshooter exclaimed as he came running with arms wide open and every intention to give me a bone-crushing hug, but David stopped him before he could reach me.

"You should stay away from Kate unless you want to get sick," he suggested. Snipeshooter held a look of disappointment, but only for a moment. David turned and addressed me, "You need to get rest and stay in bed. No selling papes until you feel better."

I made my way awkwardly through the room, a lot of the boys giving me looks of sympathy.

"Glad you're back, kid," Crutchy whispered into my ear. For some reason, this made me feel a ton better. It was the first time the boys had been civil when talking to me since the article had come out. I just nodded in response, and sat down on my bunk. Jack signaled for all of the boys to leave the bunkroom, and came and sat down beside me.

"I don't know if I want to stay here anymore if every time something bad comes up from my past, you guys go off and we get in this huge fight," I told him with a scratchy voice.

"I wasn't just mad at ya for stealing the money from the newsie. I was mad at ya because that newsie you stole from was me," he explained, his voice steadily rising. He gave me an apologetic look, and softened his features. It took a moment for what he said to really sink in.

"Wait, you were that kid?" I asked in astonishment.

"Yeah, that night I had to stay in the alley because I lost my day's earnings," I was heavy with guilt as his eyes bore into mine.

"But did you really have to call the housing official on me?" I fired back, which just led me into another coughing fit. "Did you even think of the consequences of what could have happened if he really did find out that I lived here?" I interrogated once I found my breath again.

"How did you find out?" he asked, a grimace appearing on his face while rubbed the back of his neck.

"I overheard Mush and Race talking about it. They thought I was asleep," I conveyed.

"Listen, we all have things from our past that we are not proud about, and I shouldn't hold a grudge about something that happened eight years ago," Jack apologized. "I am just so glad you'se okay. I got worried when you weren't back before dark," he added. Huh, so even though he was mad at me, he was still worried about me.

"I'm tired of fighting. Can things just go back to the way they were?" I asked weakly.

"Yeah," he said. Cheers could be heard from outside the doorway. Of course, it was just like the boys to eavesdrop on our conversation.

"Awwww," Mush cooed, barging in on our moment, along with the boys who all flocked into the room and returned to their usual shenanigans. At this point, the atmosphere in the room had lightened dramatically. Specs, Crutchy, Jack, Race, and Skittery stayed by me and we continued on with our conversation.

"I neva' should've done what I did to you. I never should have gotten mad at you, I never should have told the housing inspector on you, and I _never _should have pushed you into the wall. I mean, think of all the things that could of happened, especially after that article. Word could get out that it was 'bout you, and then you could have ended up hoit," Jack ranted on.

"Well, you see," I began. It was hard to put into words. I thought carefully about how I should explain the situation.

"You know the other day when I was late to Tibby's coming back from the pharmacy?" I asked. Jack nodded, remembering how he had asked me about this.

"It wasn't because of a long line," I said lamely. "The Delanceys had cornered me and were trying going to soak me-"

"Those sons of a-" Race interrupted.

"Let me finish," I said hastily, wanting to get my story over with as soon as possible. "Fortunately, Daze showed up at the right place and the right time, and saved me. My old boss is offering a five dollar reward for anyone to takes me to him for what happened at the factory. Then, on the way to Tibby's, Daze told me that the guys that who had beat him up in the alleys were looking for information on where I was." I finished.

"So ya lied to me, Kate?" Jack pointed out.

"I only did it because I didn't want you guys to worry," I defended, even though I knew my argument wasn't the strongest.

"From now on, you've gots to be one hundred poicent honest with me. Got it?"

"Yeah," I responded. I understood where he was coming from.

**So everything is all happy again! Yay! Any suggestions, comments, concerns? Just leave them in the review box below. ****J They make me happier than a good headline makes Jack Kelly. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**I am extremely sorry for not updating sooner! Life caught up with me, and boy has it decided to be busy. Again, thank you for all my wonderfully loyal readers. I appreciate it more than you know!**

**Delancey Brothers' P.O.V**

"Are you sure you have the right, kid?" Morris Delancey asked the boy in front of him.

"Yeah. For shoah," the figure answered.

"Good. Looks like little Miss Kate is going to be in for quite a surprise tonight," Oscar said mischievously, a wicked smile forming on his face.

"Yes. And then we will be richer than you could ever imagine. The ransom for her just shot up to a thousand dollars," Morris informed them.

"They're getting desperate," the figure inferred.

"More fun for us," Morris concluded, a sinister smile forming on his lips that matched the one of his brothers.

**Kate's P.O.V.**

The week flew by in a haze, filled with lots of rest in efforts to recover from my illness. Overall, things had pretty much returned to normal between the boys and me. Although, the boys did bring me a beautiful bouquet of carnations to make me feel better, nothing to extravagant, but you know what they say: sometimes less is more.

Yesterday, I had finally gained enough strength to go to the market just around the corner. Currently it's Saturday morning, and the lodging house was just beginning to stir. They always woke up later on the weekends since the city tended to sleep in on their days off. That is, if you considered 5 a.m. as late.

"Wake up boys! Get your keesters up and ready to sell papes!" Kloppman's voice boomed over the moans and groans of newly awaken boys.

I had already been up for the past half hour, listening to the relaxing sounds of the rhythmic snoring coming from the boys. My thoughts had floated to the date I had with Cryptic tonight. I was glad I had felt better before then, but I couldn't ignore the feeling of nervousness bubbling up in my stomach. Sarah and I were going to Medda's tonight so I could get ready for my evening out with Cryptic. Somehow, they managed to find out where he was taking me, but refused to let me in on the secret.

"C'mon Kate, you'se don't want to sleep the day away," Jack cooed, in attempts to rouse me from my perfectly comfy spot.

"I'm awake," I muttered.

"Sure ya are. Tell ya what, you'se can stay here but the minute I come back from the bathroom, you better be up," he compromised.

"M'kay"

Ten minutes later, my conscience finally won the battle and I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I walked over to the window, and swung open the shutters while I waited for the bathroom to clear out. A burst of cool, winter air welcomed my warm body, heated from the thick bed covers. I gazed out to see a beautiful sunrise to mark the start of a new day.

After lunch, Sarah and I headed towards Medda's theatre. We had been able to get much closer over the past week I had known her, with being able to have some bonding time while I was alone at the lodging home during the day.

"Aren't you excited?" Sarah asked enthusiastically.

"I guess. I'm just a little apprehensive about it all," I told her.

"Honey, everyone gets nervous before a date. You'll have fun tonight, I'm sure of it," She reassured.

"Yeah," I replied, my anxiety getting the best of me.

"C'mon," Sarah said, gesturing towards the entrance of the theatre, "Medda's probably waiting for us inside."

Three hours later, and after a variety of different kinds makeup had been painted onto my face, I looked like a completely different person. And thanks to the costume designers at the theatre, I had a new outfit to match. The high-waisted skirt, pale blue, was simple yet elegant at the same time, falling more naturally over my hips. A bow gathered the material around my waist and tied in the back, along with an A-line silhouette that flared just above the knee. A white corset gave me an hourglass figure, paired with a pale blue jacket to match the skirt.

My hair was held loosely into a bun, with my makeup adding a more natural look.

"You look amazing, Kate," Sarah commented, putting the finishing touches of blush on my face.

"Be careful, if she looks any more stunning we might have a problem on our hands," Medda added playfully, causing laughter to ring throughout the room.

"What time to do have to leave, so we can get back to the lodging house on time for Cryptic to pick me up?" I asked.

"Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it earlier," Sarah informed me, "We told Cryptic to just to pick you up at the theatre so you won't go and get your dress dirty in the city streets before your date."

I nodded taking in the information. At least this way I would get to bypass that sure-to-be-awkward-moment between the boys and me when Cryptic would have picked me up. Speaking of which, he should be here any minute now. Medda and Sarah both shared excited glances as it neared closer to the time he was supposed to pick me up.

Until then, we just had mindless conversations to pass the time. The mood faltered, though, as it got to ten minutes after he was supposed to have picked me up.

"Maybe he is just running a little late," Sarah assured me.

"Well, he sure makes a great first impression," Medda added, her voice dripping with sarcasm

I fiddled with my thumbs trying to distract myself from thinking of worst case scenarios. When my attempts became unsuccessful, I made my way to the piano and started to play a few chords divert my attention to the task at hand.

Time ticked away slowly, and ten minutes late eventually grew to fifty minutes late. After waiting for nearly two hours, Medda finally suggested that I should go home before it gets to dark outside. Sarah had already left over a half an hour ago.

"I'm really sorry, sweetie," Medda soothed, hugging me tightly, "he obviously isn't worth it if he is willing to stand up the kindest girl in New York,"

"Thanks," I told her, and quickly rubbed away the tears that had just started falling down my cheeks.

"Beautiful girls like you shouldn't cry. And after all, you don't want to ruin your makeup," she added.

"Does it even matter now? It's not like I am going anywhere" I told her.

"You don't want to go out there looking like a clown, do you?"

"No, I guess not," I responded, a small laugh escaping from my lips.

"Alright, come by tomorrow. I want to see you again!" Medda added, as I waved goodbye.

The walk back to the lodging house went by rather quickly. Soon, I had reached the front door and quietly opened it, only to see a few of the guys look at me with faces filled with confusion.

"I thought you'd be out later," Race commented.

"Umhm," I mumbled, quickly making my way towards the staircase.

"What's wrong?" Mush questioned, lightly grabbing my arm.

"He didn't show up," I said, whimpering.

"Come here," He said and wrapped his arms around me, "Anyone who misses an opportunity to spend a night with you'se is a fool," he said reassuringly.

"Spoken like a true poet," Blink told him.

"Hey, I have my moments," he defended.

"Now, how about we make use of the night while it's still young, and me and the other guys can take the beautiful girl standing in front of us to a dance hall," Race suggested. He was met with agreement, and before I knew it I was guided back to the door and in the direction of the nearest dance hall.

I could hear the muffled sound of a jazzy tune from a half a block away from the building. I couldn't help but twirl at the toe-tapping music.

Inside, the hall was even more alive with energy, but not as crazy as some of the dance halls around town. Couples of all ages could be seen jiving on the dance floor, and soon enough I found myself making my way onto it, as well. I was slow dancing with Specs when I felt someone tap my shoulder, only to recognize the person instantly.

"Do you mind if I take her for a dance or two?" The one and only Daze asked. I immediately ran up to him and hugged him. The boy who I never thought I would see again, the one who had saved me in the alley, was standing right in front of me.

"Of course!" I told him.

I enjoyed dancing with him, but let me tell you after a while you start to get a little tired.

"How about I order you a root beer?" he asked.

"Sure," I quipped.

"Just sit down at this table and I'll be back in a second," he informed me.

Only a minute or so later, he arrived with a mug filled to the brim with the fizzing goodness. I drank about a quarter of it within two minutes. I know, not exactly lady-like. All of the sudden my eyes lost focus, my ears clogged up, and my head swam with dizziness. Before I realized what was happening, I blacked out.

**I know, I left it on a cliffie! Hope you enjoy it and expect a plot twist in the next chapter! Remember to review, review, review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Previously:

_"How about I order you a root beer?" he asked._

_"Sure," I quipped._

_"Just sit down at this table and I'll be back in a second." _

_Only a minute or so later, he arrived with a mug filled to the brim with the fizzing goodness. I drank about a quarter of it within two minutes. I know, not exactly lady-like. All of the sudden my eyes lost focus, my ears clogged up, and my head swam with dizziness. Before I realized what was happening, I blacked out._

Currently:

The black abyss into which my consciousness had fallen was slowly receding, and left a haze of grogginess in its path. Whatever happened taxed my body greatly, and it was as if every ounce of energy had been drained out of me except for the bare minimum.

I was vaguely aware of my feet dangling mid-air along with the rest of my body, being held up by strong arms. As I gained more control over my weak form, I forced my eyes open only to see someone's chest less than an inch beside my face. Startled, I elbowed the unknown person in the gut with as much energy as I could muster. A load grunt could be heard and I was dropped to the cold ground. I looked up to see the dark sky illuminated by the full moon, and knew it must be late.

"What the hell was dat foah?" A startled Skittery asked, his arms covering the part of his stomach where I hurt him.

"Sorry. I thought you might 'ave been someone else."

"I'm fine. Should've realized you'se was awake anyways."

"How long was I out?" I asked Skittery, my brow furrowing as I tried to remember the events of tonight.

"Bout a couple minutes less than a half hour. You've been in an out for a while, though. Some of the. Daze told us what 'appened but we're not real sure bout why ya fainted. But we decided it'd be best to take ya back to da lodge."

I nodded and stood up slowly, grabbing Skittery's outstretched hand. We made our way back to the lodge at a leisurely pace due to my lack of energy.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Still there dancin'. They didn't want to leave yet, but I was tired anyways so I volunteered to take ya back."

As we walked the rest of the way in silence, I let the events of tonight rush to the forefront of my mind. The last thing I recalled was Daze handing me the drink right before I lost consciousness. I was still pondering what could have been the cause when Skittery stopped and considerably stiffened. About thirty feet away stood three silhouettes facing our direction under the dim streetlamp.

"Should we turn around?" I asked Skittery as discreetly as possible.

"No. Act normal. If we do, they might just follow us."

We were almost in the clear when they started to trail behind us and were picking up speed quickly.

"Run!" Skittery yelled.

Looking back, I could tell they were newsies because of the hats they were all wearing, but their faces were hidden in the shadows making it near impossible to identify them. We had taken off running, but were no match for the three sizable newsies.

The largest one caught up to us and grabbed my shoulder. I swung around and clocked him in the cheek, but he responded with a punch to my nose. I heard an audible crack and soon felt the hot blood dripping out of my nostrils. He took this time to shove me in the nearby alley. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Skittery trying to fend off the two other figures.

"No one can help ya now doll," the newsie taunted, attempting to puch my face but I blocked it before he did. I recognized this voice, I realized.

"Daze?" I asked, surprised.

"Got that right sweetcheeks."

**Sorry for the shorter chapter! I'm hoping if I have them be a little shorter I'll be motivated to update more! **


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Previously:

_"Daze?" I asked, surprised._

_"Got that right sweetcheeks." _

Currently:

"But you were just back at the dance hall."

He just stood there and laughed. "Girls are so stupid sometimes."

This got me mad. I pushed myself off the ground and tried to punch again. He caught my hand and swung me into the brick wall. He grasped a section of my hair and roughly held me against the wall with it.

"Ya see, I was playin ya the whole time. Ya thought I was your friend?" He started to laugh again. "No, I was getting information from ya. I've been on _their _side the whole time. How do you think they got the stuff for the newspaper article from? They offered me _real _cash to work for them. Now all I gots to do is turn ya in to that old boss of yours. An' if you won't come alive I can sure as hell bring ya there dead."

"Oh, an maybe you should considah keepin' ya diary in a safer place, " he added as an afterthought.

"I thought we were friends!" I yelled back, spitting blood in his face. "How'd ya even know we where going tonight?"

"C'mon, Kate. I know'se you're smartah than that. You should pay more attention to whether or not people are followin' ya." And with that he punched me in the ribs, which would definitely have a bad bruise there tomorrow.

"What about Cryptic? Did you have anything to do with him not showing up tonight?"

"Let's just say he's takin' a little break from Brooklyn right now." He had a knowing glint in his eye.

"Why'd ya come to my rescue the other time the Delanceys had me cornered a couple weeks back, then?"

"Well ya would have never taken that drink I gave ya tonight if ya didn't like me. "

"Wait," I interrupted, " is that why I passed out? You spiked my drink."

"Oscar, bring out the brass knuckles" I overheard one of the other figures say near Skittery, before I could finish my thought. Of course, Morris and Oscar Delancey were in on this too. I cringed at hearing the skin on metal contact.

"Stop! You're gonna kill him!" I screamed at the brothers along with other obscenities.

All I wanted to do now was hurt Daze in the worst way I knew how, so I kneed him in the groin using as much force a possible. Unfortunately, I hadn't seen the Delanceys coming up behind him, Skittery passed out behind some crates, so when Daze fell Oscar came at me with the brass knuckles. I tried to fight back at each blow, but I was just too tired. Once again, I dropped to the ground trying to resist the temptation of the blackness promising to take away the pain.

"People will betray ya, but money never will," Daze whispered from beside me, my consciousness continually slipping deeper into darkness.

Before I blacked out, I felt someone pick me up and I knew wherever we were going that it wasn't going to be good.

**Please take some time to leave a comment. Not only do I appreciate them immensely, but it also helps me to be a better writer for you guys. I felt bad for leaving you guys hanging there for awhile so I gave you a two for one. Hope to have another chapter up soon!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Guess what?! I'M ON SUMMER VACATION NOW! (Which hopefully means more updates. I am going to make writing a priority this summer.) So some of you may have noticed that I am currently in the middle of editing and revising this story, but no major events have changed. I only fixed little details and took out some unnecessary things. I believe I have edited up to chapter five as of now. Hope you like the next chapter! I promise, no one will be fainting in this chapter. **

**Chapter 15- Tribulations in the Tombs**

_But lately her face seems_

_Slowly sinking, wasting_

_Crumbling like pastries_

_And they scream_

_The worst things in life come free to us_

~Ed Sheeran: A Team~

**Jack's POV**

"Kate?! Skittery?!" I call one last time. Nothing. We are going through every bunkroom, every bathroom, and every closet in the lodging house for the last half-hour in search of them and still _nothing_. They should have gotten back hours before we did.

"Alright, Race. Gather everyone up. We'se gonna have to make a search party."

"Um, we might not hafta." Race points out, gesturing towards a black and blue Skittery stumbling through the front room, grabbing onto to every surface that offers support. He collapses when he reaches one of the worn and tattered sofas, which the boys were already hurrying over to.

Shouts of "What happened?" and "What did you did you do this time?!" and "Where's Kate?" were all thrown from various newsies at a barely conscious Skittery, like twenty soccer balls being kicked simultaneously at an unprepared goalie. A final, "Shut UP!" from Race causes the boys to abruptly stop talking.

"If ya not Race or me, get out," Jack warns them, his patience growing thin at the sight of his battered down friend, and the possibility that the girl who is practically his sister being hurt somewhere in New York.

"Kate's gone," Skittery informs Jack before he could even ask. "We were soaked and I'se was knocked out. She was gone when I woke up."

"Was it da Delanceys?"

"Yeah. And dis otha guy. I- I don't know who," Skitts stutters, feeling helpless. "If I wasn't such a wimp-"

"Save ya mopin' fa later, kid. We'll find Kate. And you can tell her sorry or whatever when we do." If there's one thing everyone knew about Jack Kelly, it was that you don't mess with his newsies. And if you did, you better expect there to be hell to pay.

**Kate's POV**

Time. What _is_ time? Time is a dimension that enables two identical events occurring at the same point in space to be distinguished, measured by the interval between the events. But what happens when we lose track? When all of the sudden, everything blends together. Days, months, years, could have gone by at this point, I couldn't tell. What was once night is now day and what was day is night.

I had been thrown into what is called the "Tombs." Some of the kids are thrown into the Refuge, while others are thrown into what is basically an underground jail used when the Refuge runs out of room. Whereas kids in the Refuge have the "pleasure" of seeing Snyder every day, you are in complete captivity here with the exception of when a warden hands out a small ration of bread as dinner along with the added cockroaches and sewer drainage.

Not that I had much food available before, but I had at least lost fifteen pounds off of my already malnourished body. Every night I had terrifying nightmares, and most of the time I woke up screaming. What had I ever done to deserve this? I stood up for myself, for other woman and children, and end up with this torture? Can someone please explain to me how that makes any sense? But that's just it, we don't have the power-the ones in control do.

And to think, right now at this very moment in time, the boys could be sleeping peacefully in their beds or playing a game of poker. Oh, how I wish my life was better. As a newsie, you think your life can't get any worse. But you're wrong. At least then you have friends - friends that would do anything for you. Here, you're just waiting to rot and die. At least, that's what I was told on the first day:

_I woke up wishing I hadn't. Every muscle in my body is in knots, every bone is aching, and my skin is mottled black and blue. Footsteps can be heard coming down the hallway. A warden stops in front of my door. He pulls out his keys and grasps onto one of the black bars to swing the door open. _

_"You have a visitor," He tells me, his voice monotone and emotionless while yanking me from the ground. I stumble every few feet, weak from the injuries. I walk until I arrive at a table where I come face-to-face with my old boss, ._

_"You naïve child," he laughs at me, his lip curled, "You should have known better than to be disrespectful to your elders. You have a trial date set, but believe me, don't expect to be getting out of here." And with that he got up and left. _

Since then, only one person has visited. Believe me, I wasn't expecting them either.

_"Cryptic?" I ask, my voice cracking from that lack of use, starring in shock as the boy who once stood me up on a date, now walks towards me. _

_"I heard you'se was in heah," he began. "Listen, you need to know somethin' about the night I was gonna take ya on that date."_

_"Go on," I encourage._

_"I was held captive." I scoff at his lame excuse._

_"Really? You came all the way here to tell me that?"_

_"No," he groans in frustration. "It was those lousy Delancey brothas, and some otha guy. Somethin' about an old boss o' yours. They locked me up in a closet and left. When they came back they were gloatin about how rich they was gonna be. Said you'se was here."_

_"Oh," I said, my voice losing all attitude, now weighing heavily with guilt from assuming things so quickly._

_"I wish I could get ya out of here. If I had just fought harder-"_

_"Stop," I put my arm on his shoulder. "Maybe there is something you could do, I don't know. But I'll think of something," My voice determined and blooming with hope._

_He turns as he was leaving and promised, "You'll get out, Kate, ya just have to." _

_"Oh!" I yell, remembering something I wanted to tell him. "Please, tell the boys I love them. And I miss them." _

_"Will do!" he shouts back._


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16- Preparing for the Battle**

I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up

~Jason Mraz: I Won't Give Up~

**Jack's POV**

"Hey Jack!" I turn when I see one of the younger boys running towards me.

"There's an article in heah about Kate. Said he court date is set for the nineteenth."

"We'll be there. Go and tell the rest of the boys," Jack instructs, sending the boy on his way.

Things had changed since Kate had been gone. One of Spot's birdies ended up finding out where Kate was taken. When they found out, they knew there was no hope of saving her. Fights broke out more often, and reasons for celebration became few and far between. I contemplated leaving to Santa Fe a few times, but decided against leaving them in such a tense time. It was almost comical how a girl we had known for ten months now, seven before she entered The Tombs, manages to weasel her way into our hearts so quickly.

Three days later, the boys found themselves outside of the surprisingly crowded courthouse. Amid the sea of bodies, they spotted their old friend Denton.

"You guys go on ahead. I'm gonna see what's goin' on with all these people," Jack saunters off in the other direction, pushing people off to the side every now and then. "Denton! Any idea what all dis commotion's about? It's like half of the city's reportahs showed up." Jack claps Denton on the shoulder.

"It's the trial today. The one with the girl in the factory. You know her, right?

"Yeah. Her name's Kate. They're here about her?"

"Ever since we got word of the case it's been causing a big uproar for the factories. Kids and woman coming out and telling all of these horror stories, and the public is outraged. This- this case- this is gonna be big, and it might even be bigger than the newsboys strike."

"Well there's no betta man to cover this than you, Denton," Jack laughs and makes his way up the stairs alongside the reporter, while trying to catch up with the rest of the newsies. "Hey, you said you had a friend who was gonna be a lawyer for Kate, right? We need the best we can get."

"No worries Jack, I've got a friend who owes me a favor and is willing to fight for Kate. She's been preparing for a case like this for months, and knows how important it is to us," Denton tells him, trying to alleviate his concerns.

"Wait-_she?! _As in a lady? There ain't any woman lawyers in New York!"

"She's fresh and she's smart. And you can be sure as hell that she won't go down without a fight."

"But ya forgetting that they have all the money. And we'se all know that whoever can bribe the judge wid the most money ends up winnin'."

"That's not how the strike turned out. And you took on two of the richest men of New York." Denton winks at Jack and then leaves to go find a seat in the press box of the standing-room-only courtroom.

**Kate's POV**

I was being led towards the same table that I had last sat at with my old foreman, but this time the person sitting there was on my side.

"Estella. Estella Jones. Sit, please." Her tone was professional but she gave off a kind demeanor. "Let's start off easy. Your full name is Kathleen Margaret Astaire. You lived on the streets until they took you into St. Mary's Orphanage for Abandoned Adolescents. Where you then began to work at the textile mill on West 37th Street and 8th Avenue until you were adopted by Mr. Kloppman, is that all correct?"

"How-how did you know?" My brow creases at all of the information she just told me.

"I'm your lawyer. It is my job to know the _real_ story. And we have very little time so you _must _tell me everything.

"Well…" I start. She wanted to know everything, so that's exactly what I did. I told her about my childhood, horrific stories from the factory, the day of the incident, and everything after.

"There is only one thing I need you to do tomorrow when you are testifying at the trial: you may be speaking in appeal to the jury, but you are also speaking to the audience. Whatever the outcome of the trial, you're voice will be heard by the people in that room.

The next morning I move from the Tombs and put into one of the city's cars. It is a short drive from the Lower East Side to 31 Chambers Street. The entrance is crammed with reporters, all with a pen and paper at the ready. I was taken off-guard when they all flock towards me the second I step out of the car, yelling questions over one another.

My parole officers attempt to make a pathway for me amid the chaos, and soon we were under the awning of the marble-carved, behemoth of a building. The courtroom to which I was to be tried in became deathly quiet as I enter. Honestly, I was becoming annoyed at all the unusual attention I was getting. The chatter picks up again as I walk down the main isle, and I glance around the room to find all of my friends here. Medda, almost all of the Manhattan newsies, Denton, and even Spot Conlon showed up. Some other people who were blocked by the large number of people squeezed into the tiny courtroom. Snipeshooter tries to run up and give me a hug, but was stopped by a police officer. Medda sent me a sympathetic look while some of the boys gave me a thumbs up for good luck.

As I sat down in my chair next to Estella and her pile of file folders, I got my first chance to see the jury selection. All of them were white. All of them were men. And all of them were some of the most crooked and dishonest bosses in New York City. I could almost see my chance diminish before my very eyes. But I had one thing going for me, Estella Jones was not the type of lawyer to back down from a fight, and that gave me hope.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17- The Trial**

Take all of your wasted honor

Every little past frustration  
Take all of your so-called problems,  
Better put 'em in quotations  
Say what you need to say

~John Mayer: Say~

"Order! Order! I will have order in this court today or God help me you will all be in jail before this trial is over." The judge calls over the hum of the crowd, taking several minutes for the room to become silent. The judge then went over the routine court proceedings and the accused charges

"Kathleen Margaret Astaire is being held on trial for the charges of aggravated assault on a public servant, fleeing a crime scene, and vandalizing public property, which is punishable by a minimum of five years in prison and a maximum of life in prison without parole," The judge says in his monotone voice dripping with authority, and then went on to address the lawyers, "Prosecution, you may now make your opening statements."

The other lawyer, Mr. Moriarty, begins to speak, "Not only is this child being tried in court today, but has a long history with our legal system. In fact, she was put on trial when she was eight years old. Here is where we must ask: will we allow the children to run this city? Or can we take back the reins of New York by punishing those who deserve it…" He speaks for at least another fifteen minutes but it all sounds like lies to me, so I zoned out after the first three sentences. It took me a while, but I soon realize that this man, Mr. Moriarty, is the same person who wrote the newspaper article about me. I recognize his name from the byline.

"Mr. Moriarty, let us not forget that no child may be tried twice for a crime already addressed in court," Estella tells him with a chuckle. She then went on to give my back story and other intriguing details to help my case. I then took the stand to testify for the court.

"Kate, can you please explain the morning that the incident took place?" I explain to her the same things I did the previous day, careful in how I phrase my wording so nothing would be controversial.

"So it seems, as if Mr. Dunnigan was in as much of the wrong as you were. Now, you mentioned the weapon you used in self-defense was a wine bottle. Was this wine bottle empty or full?

"It was bone dry at the time."

"So it is safe to assume that Mr. Dunnigan could have very well been under the influence at the time, therefore impairing his normal thought process. According to section 35.05 of the law of self-defense, while the conduct was initially provoked by my client, the plaintiff was not under ordinary standards of intelligence and mortality. In addition to Mr. Dunnigan's lack of a moral compass, the desirability and urgency of the situation clearly outweigh the original instigator of the altercation, which then justifies the claim of self-defense." She then asks her next question, "And you your intentions were to leave the factory after the incident originally. Is that correct?

"Yes. There were no other means of leaving the factory during the day except by breaking a window. The doors are locked during all hours."

"Shocking and truly tragic," Estella empathized, "but if there were other means of leaving the factory, such as a door, that would not have caused property to be broken, would you have used them?"

"Yes."

"That is all, your honor."

"The prosecution may now approach the stand."

"Ms. Astaire, you claim that my client, Mr. Dunnigan, came at you with a heated iron poker. Was there anyone to witness this at the time.?"

"No, but-"

"And you are aware that after the event in question you left, not telling anyone that Mr. Dunnigan was hurt?"

"Yes, but-"

"And then you claim my client continued to threaten and harass you?"

"Yeah, my friends-"

"So, it was not you he threatened, but your friends?"

"Well, it was about me."

"How do you know it was Mr. Dunnigan who was threatening you? Could he have not, perhaps, been framed?" Mr. Moriarty poses. "My dear, while your story is rather persuasive none of those things can be proved. They are as much fiction as the idea of a man walking on the moon. We need _facts._"

"You can't deny the _fact_ that innocentwoman and children die each and every day in those wretched factories. You can't deny the _fact_ that a boy, not even the age of seven, fatigued from working day and night was sucked into a machine. Later, the bits and pieces of limbs almost mosaic-like, scattered around the area were all that remained. You can't deny the _fact_ that a nine-year-old girl, Mary Richards, had her apron pulled into a machine where she was _crushed_ to death from the force. Her arms, legs, thighs, etc. successively snap, every bone in her body broken, while blood streams onto the floor from the depths of the machine. I saw this happen right in front of me, with my own eyes. She not only worked beside me, but was a friend. You can't deny those _facts_. You may not take my word, but take the words of countless of others who didn't live to see a fair shake for the hard laborers in the factories. And you know what the owners and foremen do: _nothing. _They turn a blind eye and get one of the workers to cart the lifeless bodies off. So who says my story is any less believable than theirs?" I pause to stop for air, "_And _I have a witness."

"Objection!"

"On what terms?"

"That argument is irrelevant to this case."

"Overturned. Would the prosecution like to call the witness to the stand?"

"Alright, who is this 'witness', Ms. Astaire?"

"There!" I point towards the back of the room at the person sitting next to Spot."That boy right there."

"Your honor, I would like to call Mr. ,um-" The lawyer falters.

"Cryptic," the Brooklyn newsie provided. "Just Cryptic."

"Yes, I would like to call Cryptic to the stand."

"Mr. Cryptic , in the court of law we require a witness' full name to be stated."

"With all due respect your honor," Estella interjects, "in a trial were a young girl is being falsely accused of a crime she didn't commit, I think we are allowed to use all of the resources available to prove the jury of her innocence. If the boy wishes to remain anonymous, then by all means, let him remain anonymous."

"Very well, then. You may proceed." I step down from the bench so Cryptic can take a seat, all the while a smug grin gracing my face.

"In what way are you a witness to Mr. Dunnigan's alleged 'threats'?"

"I was kidnapped," Cryptic begins, and told his story including everything from when he was walking to Medda's to pick me up, to the moment when the Delancey's and Mr. Dunnigan handcuffs him and shoves him in the closet.

"That is all we need from you, Mr. Cryptic. You may step down from the stand," Mr. Brown directs, annoyance seeping into his tone. I knew Cryptic's testimony was valuable information because it made what I said a lot more credible to the jury. Now all that was left to do was cross your fingers and listen to the closing arguments. My nervousness grew as Estella approaches the stand, knowing this will be our last attempts to save me from a perpetual hell.

"If we look back on the very fundamentals of the United States of America judiciary system, you find the words 'equal justice under law.' You have heard all of the facts, so my message to the jury is this: put aside your prejudices. Put yourself into Kate's shoes, and knowing that she has been a victim to numerous attacks and hardships, that it is sometimes better to stand up for yourself than to let others win. I don't believe that there is a bone in her body that would intend to harm this man. But because of that, she has lived in fear for months. It is time for the underdogs to get their fighting chance against the corrupt leaders of this city. And proving Kate not guilty will be the first step to a better world for our children, and ultimately the future generations of this ever-growing country."

I smile as Estella finishes her statement, and out of the corner of my eye, saw the boys smile as well. Oh how I hope I will soon be able to see them again. Mr. Moriarty made his arguments, but I was too much of a nervous-wreck to pay attention.

"The jury may now take this time to discuss the trial and decide on a unanimous vote."

There's that damn word again, _time. _But surprisingly enough, it felt like time couldn't have gone by any faster. In fact, the jury had only been gone for about ten minutes when they came in with the slip of paper deciding my fate. I feel a sick feeling boiling up in the pit of my stomach as the judge opens his mouth to announce the verdict.

"Kathleen Margaret Astaire is considered guilty on all three counts of aggravated assault on a public servant, fleeing a crime scene, and vandalizing public property."

The word _guilty _continued to ring in my ears.

**Just want to say sorry for not being as punctual as I wanted to on updating! Thank you to all my loyal readers and reviewers! My goal is to have another update by next Thursday. So, is this the end for Kate? After everything, will Kate end up in the Tombs for life? But no worries, I have a twist I'm gonna throw in there! What do you guys want to see? Any ideas? Any feelings you want to share? Feel free to leave a comment! I'm thinking of writing a sequel to this. What are your thoughts? **


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